


Assorted Buffyerse Prompt-Fics

by Alkeni



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drabbles, Every Chapter is a seperate prompt/pairing, F/F, F/M, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 21,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6495478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alkeni/pseuds/Alkeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short writing bits done from writing prompts on Tumblr. All Buffyverse, variable potential pairings and characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I… I came to apologize… (Faith/Buffy)

Buffy wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when she saw Faith on the other side of the door. Given the way Faith had just stormed out of their apartment last week, Buffy wasn’t sure she’d see her again anytime soon. 

It was a strange sight, seeing Faith standing there with one of those cheap heart-shaped boxes of chocolate you got from the drug store, too.

“I-” Faith started, hesitantly, then trailed off. Buffy just stood there, unsure if she wanted to hear Faith out. Part of her just wanted to slam the door  
in her girlfriend’s face.

_God, what is she even? We didn’t really officially breakup. Is she still my girlfriend, or my ex, or what?_

“Buffy… God, I… after what I said, I wouldn’t blame you for just kicking me out, just… I’m not asking for you to just let me in, just forget about it…  
just… hear me out? Please? I… I came to apologize.” Buffy watched Faith actually _swallow nervously_ , something she’d never seen her do. She’d seen  
Faith hesitant a few times, nervous once or twice - like the time Faith had first asked her out on a date a year ago…

Buffy just stood there for a long moment, then slowly, stepped aside, silently letting Faith enter. She could hear Faith’s apology. She could do that much.

Nodding, Faith walked in and she started to hold out the box of chocolates, “I know it’s…” Faith cut herself off, giving a hollow, self-depricating  
chuckle. “I had a whole thing planned out… I…” She closed her eyes a moment and took a breath. “God, Buffy, I’m an ass. I was just - you… you’re the best  
thing that’s ever happened to me… and- and I just… I screwed it up. I always screw it up. And you…”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothinge else I can say, really. It’s all just excuses. I… just… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Faith almost chanted her apology.

“You can’t just… apologize like that and expect that to be it, Faith.” Buffy said slowly. “I mean… _why?_ Why did you say that? You say I’m the best  
thing to happen to you… you certainly weren’t acting like it.” And to hear that Faith thought that about her… It was a little overwheming. She…

Buffy was pretty sure she loved Faith, after their year together. But still… to be the ‘best thing to happen’ to someone? That was a lot of pressure to be  
under. And it still didn’t address what Faith had said to her. How she’d lashed out at her.

Faith bit her lip, “I… I don’t have a good answer for you, Buffy. I just…” Faith slumped a little, a few tears coming to her eyes. “I- I’ll go.” She  
started to turn, but Buffy wasn’t having it. She wanted an answer. She _needed_ an answer from Faith. She grabbed Faith’s shoulder and turned her  
around, the took her hand and half pulled her to the couch. Buffy pushed the other Slayer gently onto the couch.

“No. You’re not leaving. God - Faith… I’m pissed as hell at you. And you’re not leaving until you can give me that explanation… I’m not just going to let you leave and give up on us either. I’m not giving up on us.”  



	2. I said sorry like a hundred times! (Faith/Wesley)

Faith stood still, watching Wes walk away, then bit her lip, picking up her pace a little to easily catch up with him.  
  
“Wes, come on! I said I was sorry like a hundred times!” Faith knew she sounded like she was begging, but… well, she kind of was.   
  
Wesley drew up short and turned to her. “Faith, that’s not really the issue here. I’m not upset with you, not really. I’m just… upset more generally.”  
  
Faith blinked. He wasn’t upset with her? She had just kind of embarrassed him in front of his parents, two aunts, an uncle and various extended family members. Damnit, she’d _told_  him that bringing her to his family’s Christmas Eve dinner was a bad idea. Just because they were in London to meet with G-man B, and Red about the latest apocalypse prophecy and it _happened_  to be the holiday season didn’t mean they had to go visit his family.  
  
“Its not as if I’m especially fond of my extended family.” He said, then even more softly, “or father, really.” Faith was pretty sure he hadn’t meant for her to hear that, so she didn’t comment. They were going to talk about his dear old dad soon though. Preferably when they were back in the States.   
  
Because Faith as pretty sure that conversation was going to make her want hit Daddy Wyndam-Pryce in the face a few dozen times.  
  
“And frankly, it isn’t as if I care all that much about what they think about you.” Wesley added.   
  
_Yea, but I could have tried harder at not making an ass of myself._  She’d tried so hard… it was Wes’ family. And… however many times he said he loved her, that he didn’t care what other people thought about their relationship… there was that little voice in the back of her head that kept doubting him. Doubting _them_. _God, are there any two people on the planet with a past quite as fucked up as ours?_  She’d fucking tortured him! Him forgiving her had been unbelievable enough…  
  
But she’d gone and fucked up anyway.  
  
“If- If you’re not… why did you just stalk away from me when we got out, not talking?”  
  
“I may not be upset with you, but I am… I should have listened to you. It wasn’t a good idea to go - it wouldn’t have been a good idea to go alone, even. It’s just… my family.” Wesley looked around, and gestured to the snow falling around them. “I think we should probably at least get out of the snow before we finish this.” He reached for her hand, and Faith took it - then pulled him in, bringing him down a bit to kiss him. For a split second, she was worried he wouldn’t return it, that he really was upset with her despite what he’d just said, but he did, slipping an arm around her back as he deepened the kiss, and she put her arms around his neck.  
  
After they pulled away for air, Faith kept him close for a moment. “Love you.” She murmured quietly.


	3. “You make me sick.” “Good.” (Wesley/Lilah)

Wesley watched Lilah dress, lying in his bed after their rather… vigorous sexual activity He wasn’t sure why he kept letting her into his apartment, why he kept sleeping with her - well, there was the purely physical act, which was quite good… more than that, really, but still…  
  
He’d spent the entire summer sleeping with her. With the enemy. She was a willing, active, enthusiastic servant of the Senior Partners. One really couldn’t get much more ‘the enemy’ than her. And yet…  
  
She was evil. Unapologetically so. As he’d told her, that sinking feeling came early. And yet…  
  
“Why do you keep coming here Lilah. We’ve already established I know nothing of any use to you, and do you really think your… admitted creativity in bed is going to draw me into accepting your offer of employment?”  
  
Lilah smirked, slipping her heels onto her feet. “I think the better question is: Why do you let me? The great thing about evil is that you don’t have to explain anything to anyone. But how does Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, the great would-be-hero, always aiming for doing the right thing, justify this?”  
  
Wesley had no answer for her. He had no answer for himself.  
  
“You make me sick, Lilah.” He finally settled on something to respond with. Though was it Lilah, or himself? And sometimes, he wondered if it was really sick he was feeling at all…  
  
Lilah’s smirk only broadened as she grabbed her coat, folding it over her arm. “Good. That’s what I was going for.” He watched her leave, the door swinging closed behind her,  
  
She’d come back tommorrow night, or the night after. He’d fight with himself over letting her in even as they got started, probably in the living room, and then they’d (eventually) reach his bed.  
  
He should just say no.   
  
 _And yet…_


	4. This isn't what I meant! (Cordelia/Angel)

Angel hadn’t been able to find either his wallet or his credit card anywhere upstairs. Not anywhere he usually kept it, not inside the pocket of a coat, or anything. Which meant either he’d left it down in the lobby somewhere, probably behind the desk, or in the office. Or it was stolen.  
  
_Why did I let Cordelia convince me to get one of those?_  It wasn’t like it wasn’t a useful thing to have. He’d worked hard to exist properly in officialdom now that he had Connor to take care of. His son was going to have as normal a life as he could give him.   
  
But still. When someoen stole some money from your wallet, that’s all they got. If they got your credit card…   
  
He’d have to ask Cordelia if she’d seen it.  
  
When he got downstairs, Cordelia was already behind the desk, on the computer. After a moment, he realized what it was that she had next to him. His wallet, his credit card out and resting atop of it.  
  
“Cordelia, what are you doing with my -” he caught a look of the screen. Shoes. Lots of shoes.  
  
“Buying shoes.” Cordelia said in a chipper tone of voice, turning to flash him a smile.  
  
“With _my_  credit card?”   
  
“It’s not like you don’t have the money to pay it off. Besides, you said I should do something that makes me feel better.” Cordelia chuckled when she heard the stragled noise of frustration that briefly escaped his lips.  
  
“This isn’t what I meant!”


	5. I was supposed to die first! (Faith/Amy) - Angsty & Painful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bisexualxanderharris on tumblr gave me the prompt "things you didn’t say at all" + Faimy. This is a painful one with no happiness.

Faith ignored the tears raining on the ground below her as she put a hand on the headstone in front of her.  
  
“I love you.” 

Saying it now didn’t make her feel any better - if anything, it only made it worse. _I couldn’t say it when you were alive Amy. Not in those three words. And… now I can, but what the fuck does that matter?_  
  
Amy had known how Faith had felt about her - god, no way not to, after the way that they’d had their emotions melded that one night, when Amy lost control of her magic. But Faith had never said those words. 

I love you.  
  
Amy would say it all the time, every morning at least, usually multiple times a day. But Faith always just said ‘me too’ or ‘you too’ or something like that. She’d shown Amy in other ways - gifts, the best romantic gestures she could manage (which to Faith’s mind had never been enough, but Amy had always said they were), or…

But never ‘I love you.’  
  
Faith wasn’t sure why she’d never been able to say it. But now… Now she couldn’t.  
  
 _Why did you jump in front of me?_

Amy hadn’t needed to jump in front of the demon’s sword. _I would have made it… I’ve lived through being stabbed in the gut before, Amy._  And even if she hadn’t… _Well… at least I wouldn’t have to live without her._  

But Amy had used her magic to shove Faith aside, get in the way of the sword, take the blow - and killed the demon. Only way to beat him, when he had his sword in someone’s gut. Faith had had the knife in her sleeve, and Amy had had her magic…  
  
“I was supposed to die first, Amy.” Faith managed to get out past the tightness in her throat. Slayers were supposed to die young. Not witches. Not Amy. “What am I supposed to do without you?” Faith didn’t care if anyone was watching. She dropped to her knees before the headstone, the tears flowing even more freely.  
  
“You weren’t supposed to die, Amy!” Faith all but yelled, as if she could change what had happened by volume alone. Sobs stopped her from yelling or saying anything more.  
  
It was a few minutes later, as her tears slowed, that Faith spoke again:   
  
“I love you.”


	6. Basically Already a Couple (Faith/Amy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bisexualxanderharris gave me the prompt of Faimy + “Look at us… we are basically a couple already.” 
> 
> This takes place post S7, with the only difference from canon being Amy didn’t do her little hex on Willow. Faith and Amy met up on the Cleveland Hellmouth and became fast friends.

“Amy, look at us… we’re basically a couple already.” Faith leaned across the narrow table in the corner of the club they were in. She wasn’t really sure where she was going with this. She was just sorta winging it at this point. Better than trying to think about it and freaking out when she realized she had no damn clue what the fuck she was doing.

Amy took a sip from her drink - some fruity mixed drink thing with a crazy name that Faith didn’t remember, complete with a damn umbrella - and raised an eyebrow.

“We’re basically a couple together?”

“Totally.” Faith started ticking off the was, “We’re already living together,” which they were, as roommates, "we hang out almost all the time we’re not on the job, we’re having sex pretty regularly. I mean, hell, you even finished my sentence yesterday.“ And afterward, Andrew had suggested/joked that she and Amy made for a cute couple. The guy could be annoying as hell sometimes, but he had a point. And Faith really wanted to make Amy and her a couple. She just -

 _Stop thinking too hard about it Faith_.

“I like spending time with you, you like spending time with me. I mean, we do all the things a couple does, and ergo and all that shit, that makes us a couple. I mean, the only thing we’d need to do is actually say we’re girlfriends or something.” Even as the words escaped her mouth, Faith wished she could take them back. _Fuck!_ She hadn’t meant to…

Amy smiled, “Are you saying you want me to be your girlfriend?” Faith opened her mouth, but she had nothing, her mind a total blank. Fuck, Amy was gonna say no, and shit was gonna be awkward and then-

“Sweet Merciful Hecate, Faith, I’ve been waiting for you to ask something like this for the last two months!” Amy leaned across the table herself, grabbed the front of Faith’s Shirt and pulled her to her, kissing her.

Faith returned the kiss eagerly, reaching across the table to grab Amy’s hand, holding it tightly. After they pulled back, feeling a few stares on them, Faith spoke again, breathing a little heavy. Damnit, she couldn’t help the smile on her face. She wouldn’t say she loved Amy - too early for that, but _damn_ , Faith was crushing on the woman, and Amy was apparently crushing back.

“Why didn’t you say something?”  
  
Amy rolled her eyes, “You’re the top in bed, I figured you’d take charge on this end too. Should have remembered how bad you are with handling feelings. Though you are getting better.” Amy smirked and leaned in with a quiet murmur: “How about we take care of those two vamps over there about to take their dinners out back and then head back to the apartment to…celebrate?” She indicated where she meant with a jerk of her head.  
  
Faith smirked as well, her thoughts already on the celebration. “I like the sound of that idea.”


	7. “That won’t work. Try again.” (Tara/Willow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kathubs gave me Twillow + “That won’t work. Try again.” 
> 
> This takes place, in a post S7 AU. Tara and Willow didn’t get back together in S6, Tara didn’t die, she worked with the gang during S7 – she was one of them after all – and left Sunnydale with everyone else. Willow had a brief thing with Kennedy, but Kennedy picked up that Willow was still totally in love with Tara and that she wasn’t changing the redhead’s mind, so she broke things off and they parted on decentish terms. After Sunnydale collapsed, Willow and Tara have seen very little of each other in the last few years.
> 
> And alright, that premise kinda got away from me. Be warned, I’m still very unfirm on Tara’s voice/characterization, so bear with me on that front.

“That won’t work,” Tara told her as she looked up from her book at Willow, who was still standing by the table with her latte in hand. “You can try again if you want.”

“Tara, all I asked was if I could sit here,” Willow gestured at the seat across from her ex-girlfriend. “The room is kind of crowded right now and there’s not a lot of seats to pick from.” She’d only been coming here for the last week – the coffee was great, but the inside of the café didn’t offer a whole lot of tables or chairs to work with. She hadn’t even known Tara was living in this city, let alone that she would ever come here, but here the other woman was.

It had been a hard road for Willow to accept that Tara just wasn’t interested in ever trying to make things work between them again, but by the time they’d left Sunnydale a hole in the ground, she’d had to accept it. And…

_After I did that to her, manipulated her memories and her mind… Goddess, how can I blame her?_ It was just surprising that Tara didn’t hate her, when Willow really forced herself to step back and look at what she’d done.

“I didn’t even know you were here in this city.” Willow finished.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, you can sit down.” Tara nodded, and Willow took the empty seat. Despite herself, Willow stared at Tara. The last few years had been good for her, Willow decided. She carried herself with the same confidence than she had that last year in Sunnydale, especially when she’d been one of the only people not interested in shunning Faith and had spoken up in the other Slayer’s defense. She looked as beautiful as ever and-

Willow looked down at her latte. She didn’t get to do that anymore. They weren’t a thing. Even if Willow had been constantly comparing every girl she’d dated since Sunnydale to Tara – and none of her attempts at dating had lasted more than a few months.

“So…” Tara asked, her voice suddenly hesitant, “What are you in town for anyway?”

Surprised at the question, Willow answered after a quiet moment, “I – I’m trying to track down an ancient tome for Giles. It used to belong to the old Council, but it wasn’t in the headquarters when it got, you know, all blown up. We’ve tracked it to this city, but we don’t know any more than that.”

“Oh. So you’re not staying in town.” Did Tara sound… disappointed? No, she couldn’t. That was just Willow imagining things.

“Only for as long as I need to find this book. But it’s been a week and I’ve still got nothing.” Willow sipped at her coffee. “What have you been doing?”

“I’m working on my Master’s Degree, in Comparative Literature and Mythology. And I’m help out sometimes with the local Council Affiliated Group. “ The new Council as structured by Buffy and Giles and Xander and Willow herself, along with the others, was more like a franchise system than anything else – they’d help local groups of slayers or other people with magic and all that set up their own methods of fighting demons and vampires in town, provide what funding and information support they could, and all that.

Willow hadn’t realized that Tara was part of the one for this town.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.” And she was. Tara had always talked about how she wanted to get a Masters, maybe even a PhD and then become a professor. It was good to know Tara had started working on that.

“I’m actually,” Tara started for a moment, then, “I’m due to give a presentation to some of the professors and any students that want to see it tomorrow. It’s – it’s open to the public, if you wanted to come?”

Okay, Willow was not imagining the hopeful note in Tara’s voice there. But she had to be sure. She didn’t want to intrude, if- if Tara didn’t want here there…

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to.” Willow said quietly. “What time?”

“Twelve thirty,” Tara gave her the building and what room she’d be doing it in. Looking at her phone, Tara stood up. “I have – I have to go now, but maybe after, we could… maybe grab a cup of coffee together? Catch up?” Again, Willow was hearing hesitancy, and again, hope. She was _not_ imagining it…

“I’d like that.” Willow told her, feeling something she hadn’t felt in a long time, since those first few tentative steps in her relationship with Tara originally. “I’ll be there, and I’ll see you after.”


	8. did you just say that out loud? (Faith/Wesley)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bisexualxanderharris gave me the prompt Faithsley + "Oh my god did you just say that out loud?"
> 
> This takes place in an AU where Faith sticks around with Angel Investigations after Sanctuary, rather than turning herself in, because this offers her a better chance to work for her redemption, and she gets away with it because Angel calls in a favor from years and years ago with a guy who is now a judge that he saved from vampires. Or something like that. So Faith doesn’t go to prison, the charges against her are dropped or dismissed or whatever, and she works with AI. Wesley and Cordelia both have misgivings, obviously, but it all works out, and this takes place in a thus AU early to mid Season 3.

“Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?” Cordelia demanded, then shook her head, “No, god, the out loud part doesn’t even matter. Because I did _not_ just hear what I think I heard just now.”

Wesley shook his head, “You heard me correctly, Cordelia. I slept with Faith last night.” Wesley hadn’t really planned on letting anyone know about it – neither had Faith. Not just yet anyway. Things between them were too… new, for either of them to want it to be aired out in front of everyone. But then he’d run into Angel this morning and the vampire had done his whole ‘smelling’ thing and confronted him about it.

Surprisingly, Angel hadn’t reacted that badly. He’d just warned Wesley to be careful – to not get hurt - and to not hurt Faith. Wesley got the distinct impression that Angel had been expecting this for some time. Which, in hindsight, Wesley supposed made a lot of sense. He hadn’t realized his feelings for Faith until after they’d gotten back from Pylea, but looking back, he could see they’d been there for at least a while before then.

But if Angel knew… well, there was no hiding it for long. So he’d told Cordelia.

“What? Are you _completely insane?_ I mean, sure, she’s Faith, she’s hot, and she’s probably really flexible, being a Slayer and all that, but seriously Wes, if you’ve been that horny since Virgina broke up with you, just go out to a bar and pick up some random girl. I mean, you actually can do suave now, unlike in Sunnydale. Hell, you could have just picked up some prostitute, even!”

The level of seeming disgust in Cordelia’s voice surprised him. And upset him. He’d thought Cordelia, like him, had long since moved past her issues of Faith being here. She certainly had seemed to last year, especially after Faith had called Angel out on his bullshit when he’d fired them all, and stuck with them when they continued with the agency anyway.

Biting back his anger, Wesley straightened up in his chair and adopted a cold, emotionless tone. “I didn’t realize you thought like that about Faith.”

Cordelia scoffed and rolled her eyes, “It has nothing to do with Faith, Wesley. I like her plenty, and she’s a grown woman allowed to do whatever the hell she wants, but seriously, Wesley, she _tortured_ you. Fine, you’ve forgiven her, and that’s great, but don’t you think that would make having a fling with her…” Cordelia trailed off, looking at him intently. “It _is_ just a fling, isn’t it? Tell me that you’re not- oh, good, god Wesley, you really _are_ a masochist!”

_Not in the least, Cordelia._

“Is the idea that I’m in a relationship with Faith so disturbing to you?” Wesley’s tone was still cold, because he still didn’t get why Cordelia found the whole concept so repulsive, but at least she wasn’t denigrating Faith. _I – I love her. Is that so hard to understand?_

“Yes! She tortured you! And she’s got issues all over the place. And for that matter so do you! I mean, you were her Watcher, for all of five seconds. Do I need to go on about how you were towards her when she first ended up sticking around?”

Wesley bit his lip and looked down, “No, you don’t.” He had justification, perhaps, for how he behaved towards her, but still. He’d shunned her, refused to listen to her attempts to apologize, all but spat on her efforts for some time.

“This is serious, isn’t it?” Cordelia asked suddenly, her voice softer. “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

“I do.” Wesley nodded. “I… I didn’t exactly expect it. I just…” Wesley had trouble articulating it, putting the way he saw Faith into words. She accepted him, cared for him… she could be unbelievably crude at times, and yet astonishingly gentle and unsure at others. With her, Wesley could be himself, no masks, no facades for the daily grind of life. With Faith, he could entirely be himself, and he knew that Faith was being as genuine as he was, in every way. 

Cordelia scoffed, “I suppose none of us are going to have a normal relationship anyway. If she makes you happy, then… well, good for you. Just… be careful, Wes. I don’t want to see you hurt.” Then she leaned in, “and if she hurts you, Slayer or not, I’ll make her hurt back. Twice over.”

“And I hurt her?” Angel hadn’t made any threats, but then, he hadn’t had to. Angel cared for Faith like a  sister.

“Then I’ll slap you for being such an idiot and then help you figure out how to make it right. Duh, what are friends for?!”


	9. "Do you want to dance with me?" (Fred/Wesley)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon send me "Do you want to dance with me?" + Fred/Wesley
> 
> Timeline-wise… let’s say its the Halloween party in Season 5, and Lorne didn’t get his sleep removed, so things don’t go quite as haywire and such, and everyone has a nice, normal Wolfram and Hart Party. That goes well.
> 
> Forgive me if this is bad. I’m not really much of a Fresley shipper.

Wesley was starting to wonder if agreeing to Lorne’s pleas to attend the party had been the best of ideas. On the one hand, he understood he anagogic demon’s point about Company Morale, but on the other hand… these sorts of gatherings never were exactly his thing.

So here he was, standing against the wall, watching the party kick into ‘high gear’ and instead of getting involved, he was busy itemizing the dozens of different tasks that he could be spending his time on. He was always busy – there was always another translation, more spell-detailing to do, more intelligence reports to go through. He was more than just the head of a department at Wolfram and Hart, it seemed like. He served as a gatekeeper for Angel, making sure the things that got to his desk were only the things that required his attention. And the man was still as overworked as they were.

Taking a breath, Wesley decided that no, he didn’t need to be here anymore. Lorne would understand, and even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t get more than moderately disappointed. He wasn’t really one to get angry.

Looking down at the untouched drink in his hand, Wesley set the glass down on one of mini-tables lining the wall and started to head for one of the exits before he felt a hand on his arm.

“Wesley! Come on, you can’t go yet.” Fred told him.

“I have a lot of work to get done, Fred.” Wesley pointed out. “And parties like this… they’re not exactly my thing.”

“The party’s just getting started.” Fred said. “Don’t you want to have a little fun? Come on!” She tried to tug him towards the dance floor.

“Fred, I’m not entirely sure that this qualifies as my idea of fun.” Still, it was hard to refuse Fred anything when she insisted, so Wesley let her drag him back towards the party.

“Oh my god, Wesley, how you can be so smart and so stupid at the same time, I’ll never know,“ Fred turned around and grabbed the front of his shirt. Before he could even process what she was doing, she pulled him down into a quick, but absolutely wonderful kiss. When she pulled back, it was all Wesley could do to maintain a coherent thought in his brain. “Now, Wesley, do you want to dance with me or not?” She gave him an almost sly smile as she asked the question.

After a moment to collect himself, Wesley nodded. “I believe – I think I very much like that idea.” He let her drag him the rest of the way onto the dance floor, unable to keep from smiling.

Perhaps there was something to be said for parties after all.


	10. When Words Aren't Enough (Xander/Cordelia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> profoundly-grey gave me the prompt 'When Words Aren't Enough' + Xander/Cordelia
> 
> Things to know: Xander has had his name legally changed to Xander (he got tired of people calling him ‘Alex’ or ‘Alexander’ because that was his legal name), Xander and Cordelia never broke up in S3, they’ve stayed together since then, and are both 25 now.

Honestly, Cordelia could hardly believe this was happening.

But here she was, standing at the altar next to Xander, about to be married. The minister was almost to the vows now. Just a pair of ‘I dos’ and she’d go from being Cordelia Chase to Cordelia Chase-Harris. _No way am I completely swapping out my last name for his!_ Xander hadn’t been remotely bothered by that, which she hadn’t been surprised by, and he’d actually decide he’d be Xander Chase-Harris too, when this was all done. That had surprised her a little, but it also suited her just fine.

It had taken months of planning for her to get the wedding the way she wanted it. It wasn’t the dream wedding she’d had as a kid, but as a kid, her dream wedding had also included her being a movie star, so that had been tossed out the window from the start.

And the most important part – that Xander was here – was really all she really needed for the wedding to be perfect.

With her dad in prison – finally caught – for the last three years, and since he’d never been much of a father to her anyway, it had been Giles who had given her away, which suited her just fine.

Taking a breath, she focused her attention on the minister as he turned to Xander.

“And do you, Xander Harris, take Cordelia Chase to be your lawfully wedded wife? For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, to love and to cherish for the rest of your days until death do you part?”

Even though she didn’t doubt that he’d say the words, her breath still caught in the second between ‘until death do you part’ and Xander saying ‘I do’.

“I do.” Xander said, the surface,  the words sounded wholly inadequate – how could just ‘two words’ really encompass all that they were intended to mean? A pledge of commitment for life, of love without reservation… but they didn’t sound inadequate at all. Because it wasn’t the words. It was the fact that Xander was saying them here, now, with such complete genuineness in his tone.

It was all Cordelia could do to not cry, hear heart threatening to burst out of her chest. Almost there.

“And do you, Cordelia Chase,” the minister began, turning to her, “take Xander Harris to be your lawfully wedded husband? For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, to love and to cherish for the rest of your days until death do you part?”

“I do.” Again, it didn’t seem to be possible for those two words to be enough. Enough to convey just how much she loved Xander, how happy he made her, how much of their lives they had shared, how much she wanted him in her life for the rest of it. And they didn’t feel like enough, even as she said them, were there any _words_ for that, really? Cordelia didn’t think so.

“Then by the power invested in me by God and the State of California, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Cordelia turned to face Xander directly as he reached one hand for the bottom of her veil and lifted it, then put her arms around his waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss, which Cordelia returned, her arms snaking around his neck, the dam within her bursting and a few tears of joy trickling down her face as they kissed, not quite crossing the line of what was publicly appropriate, but dancing right up to it.

The words ‘I do’, might not have been enough, not really, but this kiss… she put all her feelings into her: her love, her happiness, her commitment. And she could feel the same from Xander. They were interlocked together perfectly as they kissed, their lips molding to the other’s without flaw.

There were no words for how much she loved Xander and how much he loved her, but they didn’t need words.

_I love you, Xander Chase-Harris._


	11. The Color Green (Lilah Morgan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @bisexualxanderharris requested "The Color green" + LIlah Morgan

_“Green - is my favorite color.  I look good in diamonds - and I love riding in limousines.”_

In hindsight, Lilah should have realized that this whole ‘use the Slayer to kill Angel’ plan had been a bad one. And she was able to defend herself before Holland by pointing out - accurately - that it had been Lee’s idea, and Lindsey had been there every step of the way too. They were all taking the blame for this. 

On the plus side, Lilah had just won her latest case - that is, the actual business of the firm - and she hadn’t even had to resort to the fancy tactics of killing witnesses and tampering with juries. It was always fun to not need to resort to those. Proved to herself and all those jackass wanna-be alpha males she was forced to work with that she could hold her own in court all by herself. Lee Mercer couldn’t say that. Lindsey… Lindsey was still capable of managing on his own. Made him worthy of respect.

Lilah opened up the box she’d walked out of the jewelry store with. She always liked to treat herself after she won a case. 

The gold bracelet would have been expensive on its own, but the diamonds and emeralds only made it more so. It was the kind of conspicuous statement of wealth and success she loved. Noticeable and noticeably expensive, but in no way tacky. It was elegant. Closing the box, Lilah tucked it into her purse. She had a few more cases to win. And also some information on Lee that Holland Manners would find _very_ interesting. 

Paying off that guy at Klein & Gabler’s HR office had been one of her better ideas.


	12. "Take off your clothes." (Xander/Cordelia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous requested Xander/Cordelia + "Take off your clothes"

“Take your clothes off.” Xander said, dropping the duffel bag on the ground as he pulled the door to the utility closet closed behind him. Unlike the Janitor’s closets they’d used to make out in back in High School

“Xander!” Cordelia started indigantly, going into full ‘Queen C’ mode: I don’t know how in the loop you’ve been, but I’m an actress, not a fucking stripper! Just because you’re helping me escape from a bunch of demons does not mean that I’m going to just-”  
  
“I just got the info on these demons from Giles while we were running here. You know, my little talk on the phone? Their blood is acidic. Slow acid, but it’s gonna burn through your shirt and skirt soon and then start on your skin. So undress, and grab the clothes in the bag. They’re in your size.”

“Really? I need to undress because of demon blood and you just _happen_ to have a change of clothes in my size? You just want to see me naked!” Cordelia waved dismissively. 

“Cordelia, you’re the most beautiful woman I know.” Xander pressed his ear against the door. The demons shouldn’t even have been able follow them to this building, but they also tracked by scent, so maybe they had. “Of course I want to see you naked. But I was planning on staying turned around while you changed. As for why I have clothes in your size for you -” Xander took a breath and turned to her, “As I was trying to explain to you before those demons ambushed us, I came down to L.A. to visit you. Catch up, say hi,” _Maybe ask you out to dinner. Platonically of course._  

It wasn’t as if she’d say yes any other way. Cordelia was still the woman he loved, but she wasn’t likely to want to start things up again. “I still know your sizes from all the times I was your carrying bags guy at the Sunnyale Mall. The clothes were a gift, belated pair of birthday gifts, since I missed the last two.”

“Oh.” Cordelia said softly. “Well, that’s- turn back around.” Xander complied, resisting the impulse to watch her. They weren’t dating. Or even close. After a few minutes, she told him he could turn back around.

“They’re - they’re actually really nice. Thank you.”  
  
Xander looked down, “I got a bit of advice from Buffy on what to buy,” he admitted. “Glad you like them though.” Of course, he had demon blood on his own shirt, so… careful to avoid brushing his hand, he started unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t even realize Cordelia was staring at his torso.

“You’ve gotten more uhm… muscular.” She said after a moment, her voice a bit lower than just before. “I mean, I heard through the grapevine that you were working construction, but…” she trailed off, and Xander almost expected her to lick her lips. At least she wasn’t staring at him like a piece of meat - not completely, anyway. Anya had done that a few times. It had felt… bad. Which had been a bit of an eye-opener for him, when he really thought about how women felt in the same situation. _In my defense, I don’t stare as much as a lot of guys!_

“Hand me my spare shirt,” Xander said, gesturing to the bag. Cordelia nodded, complied and Xander pulled it on. “We should probably get moving, now that we’ve changed and caught our breath.” Xander handed her his phone, “Call Angel or Wesley, please?”

“I can call Wesley, yeah. After we get away from these guys, we can do that catching up. Maybe over coffee or something?” There was no segue, but how kind of segue could go there?

“Sounds good.” Xander replied, keeping his voice level. _Down boy!_  he added to himself, feeling a slight uptick in happiness at Cordelia asking him out for coffee. It wasn’t like that. He’d cheated on her. Even if they’d kind of buried the hatchett after he got her that prom dress, she was never going to be interested in him again. Not in any serious way.

 _It’s your own damn fault, Xander._  

He was so caught up in his mental self-recriminations that he missed the faint, hopeful smile on Cordelia’s face at his acceptance of her offer.


	13. Pain, Hate, Envy (Faith/Wesley)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bisexualxanderharris requested “Pain. Hate. Envy. Those are the ABC’s of me, you take them away and there’s nothing left.” + faithsley

Okay. I spent some time trying to figure out how to make this prompt work, and then this came to mind.

This is one of those ‘soulmate mark’ AUs, where your mark burns when you first lay eyes on your soulmate. Faith and Wesley are soulmates, but Faith still killed Finch and went dark, yada yada, Wesley still got fired, etc. This is one of those soulmate AUs where soulmates don’t always get together, and Wesley resigned himself (especially after Faith ended up in a coma following the stabbing, which he y’know, felt) to never having his soulmate.  
  
This takes place in 1x18 of AtS, “Five By Five”, the scene where Faith has Wesley tied to that chair.

* * *

“Stop trying to help me, Wesley!” Faith screamed at him. “I’m not some broken toy you can just fix! This is me!  Pain. Hate. Envy. Those are the ABC’s of me, you take them away and there’s nothing left.” Faith grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him - chair and all - up off the ground. “This is who I am. Don’t act like you know me because some fucking grand cosmic  _thing_  decided we’re soulmates! So shut up before I decide Angel needs some more motivation!”

“I’ve had a lot of time to do eveyrthing I can to understand you, Faith. I failed you once. I don’t want to do that again.” For the first time, Wesley really understood that axiom that fearlessness and courage weren’t the same thing. He was terrified, but he couldn’t let that stop him. “You don’t have to be all of those, Faith. There’s more to you than that.”

“Oh yeah? Like what? Shut up! Shut up!” Faith screamed again. Turing around, she grabbed the knfe she’d embeded into the table and brandished it in front of him. “You think I won’t cut you? You think I won’t kill you?”

“I’m sure you will Faith.” Wesley had read so much on the human mind over the last year, trying to understand Faith, trying to figure out what, if anything, he might have been able to do differently. Faith - she needed help. She needed someone to reach out to her. He could have been that person - he  _should_  have been that person. He’d failed her, listened to Council Doctrine and ruined everything. He couldn’t do that again.

Angel was convinced Faith was out of control. That she needed to be put down. Wesley couldn’t let that happen. The universe had made them soulmates for a reason. It wasn’t just random, or arbitrary. There was a purpose behind it. He’d always believed that. It had been something to hold onto, all those times his father had locked him under the stairs. That there was someone out there who really could love him unconditionally. That there was someone out there who he could love.

Of course, he’d had that illusion worn out of him as he’d grown up, especially after Faith. But he couldn’t give up on the idea of it. He never really had - not completely.

 _I’m her soulmate for a reason. That has to mean that I can help her. I just have to try._  

“I’m sure you will.” He said again. “But you don’t have to. Please, Faith. You-” Wesley took a breath. He had no idea if this would work, had no idea if he was understanding her at all. “You’ve fallen into darkness and you don’t see any way out but to keep going, doing what got you here. Nothing feels under control - the only way you see to assert that control, the control over your own life, yourself, is to use violence. You… you-” Pain exploded in his jaw and he could feel bruises already start to form on his cheek.

“Shut up!” Faith repeated. “Stop it! Stop pretending you know me! You and your English upbringing and your fancy accent and your big useless brain. Your fancy suits and your-”

“I won’t pretend I know or understand ever detail of your life, Faith. I don’t. But I understand feeling like you have no control.” Wesley swallowed, thinking back to that moment, not even a few weeks ago, when he’d tortured that man – even if it had only taken a few minutes - to find out where Angel was, leading him to that fighting arena. The deep, visceral satisfaction he’d gotten, in being able to force that man to dance to his tune, as it were.

And it wasn’t the first time Wesley had felt that sort of thing. It hadn’t been many times. But…

He did understand. Just a little bit. And Wesley was running out of time to convince Faith to let him help her. Angel would be here sooner or later.

“You’re not evil, Faith,” Wesley told her, ignoring the pain in his jaw as best he could. “You don’t have to keep doing this. Please, _let me help you_.” His eyes fell on the knife she was still toying with idly, and hit it him.

She wanted to make Angel angry. She wanted…

“You want Angel to kill you.” He said, even as it dawned on him. “You want him to kill you, as punishment. You see only the one way out.” Wesley couldn’t help by swallow as he saw her hand tighten around the knife. He spoke more, his words coming quickly, not even sure what he was saying. Speaking on instinct. “You know you’ve crossed lines and you don’t see any way back. You don’t see any way out but to die. But that’s not the only way. You can make up for what you’ve done. Earn your redemption.” Like Angel. Like himself, for his own failures, small as they were.

“I’m evil!” Faith hissed, her voice low for a change. “I’m bad! Stop pretending you know me! Stop pretending these marks matter!”

“No, you’re not. Please, Faith.” Wesley begged her, “This isn’t about us being soulmates, this isn’t about some cosmic purpose. This is about me offering you a chance. If you motivate Angel to want to kill you, he will. You know that full well. Please… please Faith. Let me help you. Let me try.”


	14. I am doing the best I can (Faith/Amy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @bisexualxander harris requested faimy + "I am doing the best I can"

“Do you have the damn door open or not Amy?!” Faith kicked the demon in the chest, sending it staggering backwards. It was built like a Fyarl had sex with a brick shithouse and had a kid – and then that kid had growth hormone forced down its throat for a few years. About the only things going for the ugly thing were that it moved slowly, had almost no sense of balance, and it’s hide wasn’t super thick.

On the downside, Wes had said its blood clotted quickly, and yeah that had happened. Half a dozen cuts with her favorite knife – the enchanted one Amy had given her for Christmas all those years ago – and the damn thing was still going strong and was barely bleeding.

“It’s not exactly a simple process to take down a ward that’s been here for a hundred years, Faith. I’m doing the best I can!” Faith couldn’t look back to see what her girlfriend was doing, but whatever it was was generating a long of smoke, the acrid smell mixing with the putrid stench wafting off the demon – who had clearly never heard of soap.

“Well, you might want to consider,” Faith started, ducking under a punch from the demon and slashing at its leg, “doing it faster!”

“Do I tell you how to stake vampires?!” Amy shouted over the roar of rage the demon let out at getting cut again. “Just keep that demon off me! And maybe tell Wesley ‘no’ next time he wants us to steal a rare book from a dead demonologist’s vault!”

Faith wasn’t able to respond to that, as the demon came at her again – she avoided the punch with ease, dodging to the side and cutting out at it again – unfortunately, that time she didn’t get it. Amy was mostly being sarcastic with that comment about her Watcher. Wes had long since had the concept of ordering her around beaten out of him – metaphorically, or whatever the right word was – and now they were partners, working the whole demon fighting gig together, with Amy working right alongside them.

Wes didn’t give orders, but he was still the Watcher. That meant if he thought some rare book was too evil and dangerous to just be left lying around, he was probably right. So here they were trying to get it. Wes had forgot to mention that the guy had left behind a whole crapton of demons in some kind of magic comas or whatever to wake up if anyone broke in. This one was just the biggest

 _Still, next time, he’s coming along, ‘prior engagement’ or not_. His shotgun would be pretty fucking useful right about now.

“Almost there!” Amy shouted again. Dropping into a roll, Faith evaded another kick and moved under the demon’s raised leg, ending up behind it.

“Alright then… let’s wrap this up!” Faith braced herself against the wall as the demon turned around – just as it was about to face her again, Faith pushed herselff off and jump-kicked at it, catching it right in the chin. The blow sent it staggering back again, heavy feet crashing down on the ground repeatedly as it waved its arms, trying to stay upright.

Faith, for her part, screwed up the landing and crashed into the ground, flat on her back, her leg twisted a little, out to the side below the knee. It didn’t feel broken, but it and her back were gonna be fuckin’ sore tomorrow.

“Owww…” Faith groaned as she heard the metal vault door start to grind open, scraping against the stone floor. Palms flat on the ground, the Slayer pushed herself to a sitting position and looked at the demon, who was busy trying to get up, and not having any luck. Her knife was a few feet away from her…

Rolling on her side a few times to reach it, Faith sat back up, not wanting to test her leg just yet in a fight. Taking the knife in one hand, she hefted it, aimed, and buried it in the demon’s neck. Even if that didn’t kill it…

The gurgling sound it made as it stopped struggling to get up at least made it clear that it wasn’t getting up soon.

“Amy, can I get-” Faith said as she tried to stand up

“A hand?” Amy asked, reaching over to grab her arm and pulling her to her feet. “Need any help staying up?”

Faith tested her leg. Definitely twisted and pulled a muscle. A pulled muscle was the worst – Slayer healing didn’t really make that stop hurting any slower, the way it would heal most injuries a lot quicker.

“No, I can walk. Can you cast that… whatever you called it, like, ice-pack spell on it?” Amy had used it on her before – it would make her leg feel like she had icepacks wrapped all around it. Without the leaking water or reduced mobility.

Amy shook her head, “I’d need some ice or snow to cast it. Or something frozen. I can cast it as soon as we’re out of here. Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?” That question was asked with her signature smirk – one that cut through Faith’s pain for a moment… but pain wasn’t really one of Faith’s turn ons. And her back and leg were throbbing painfully – powering through it now was only going to make it hurt worse later, but had to be done.

“Not sure I’m going to be up for that. We’ll have to see about that part once we get back to the apartment. Can you grab…” she gestured to the knife in the demon’s throat, and Amy nodded, waving her hand and making the blade – with 'Faith Lehane’ etched on it – float back into Faith’s waiting grip. “Thanks.”

“Love you.” Amy said after a moment, leaning over to give Faith a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back. “Now let’s get that book, and see if there’s anything else worth taking in that vault.”


	15. "Please don't argue" (Faith/Amy + Wesley)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> amy faith and wesley + “Please don’t argue.” requested by @bisexualxanderharris

Takes place after the "I am trying the best i can" Faith/Amy prompt fic.

* * *

 “Wes, I don’t know why you decided to jam that pole back up your ass this morning, but we’re supposed to fucking partners in this shit. So where the hell were you? And fuck your ‘other engagements’!” Amy winced a little at the fury in Faith’s tone. “This whole book was your idea, and you don’t give me orders. So tell me what the hell was so important, or so help me-”

“Or what Faith?” Wesley drawled, not getting up from his desk. “I don’t think you’re actually pissed off enough to do more than punch me, and while I don’t relish being punched in the face by a Slayer, you don’t give the orders in this partnership either.” His tone was ice-cold. Amy was pretty sure she’d missed something between her girlfriend and the Watcher. Yeah, it was annoying that Wes hadn’t been there to help them with that giant demon, or maybe help her with the wards on the vault door (or any of the lesser demons they’d fought to get that far), but still, wasn’t worth this much rage. And Wesley had to be pissed off for a reason.

“Punch you? Oh, you’ll wish I was just going to punch you, Wes-” Faith started. That was enough. Waving her hand, Amy conjured the sound of a thunderclap, which reverberated through Wesley’s apartment and shut both of them up.

“Please, don’t argue anymore. I’ve already got a headache and I’d rather you two don’t make it worse.” Amy splayed her hand over her forehead, then went on. “And Faith, sit down. The icepack spell is a help, but you really shouldn’t be putting pressure on your leg if you don’t have to.” Amy stepped forward, glaring at them both. After a long moment, Faith nodded

The thing that was making no sense is why they were _so_ pissed at eachother right now. Even after four years of Watcher-Slayer partnership, Faith and Wesley weren’t exactly friends. But they did have a firm respect, a rapport, and a working partnership. And, in his own emotionally inexpressive English way, Wesley cared about Faith. And Faith in turn cared about Wesley, if the way she’d been ready to tear Los Angeles to pieces after he’d been stabbed by an old enemy of Angel’s a year and a half ago was anything to go by. Frankly, they almost had a sibling vibe going between them.

 _Just don’t tell them they care about eachother._ Sometimes her girlfriend could be an idiot. Wesley too, but that wasn’t much of a surprise.

“I don’t know what in the name of Hecate has gotten into you two, but stop it. Now, Wes, we could have used your help with those demons. So could you please explain what you were doing that was so important?“

“I was meeting with a black market contact to procure this.” Wesley held up two pieces of colored glass, one red, one blue. “This tome is coded, and these enchanted lenses are the only way to crack that code. The contact was only going to be in Los Angeles today, so I couldn’t put it off.”

“See, now was that so hard to share?” Amy asked pointedly.

“No, I suppose not.” Wesley admitted. He inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry my information was wrong, Faith. I didn’t expect anything more than the Chryeblar Demon you fought at the vault door.”

“Well, check your information next time.” Faith replied, “And…” Amy gave her a pointed look and Faith went on, “Sorry for blowing up at you.”

“Good. Now, can either of you explain why you both overreacted so much?” Neither of them had an answer. “You two do this every few months - little things build up and then you start leveling threats and yelling at each other for a few days. Not this time. I’m giving you two a fucking intervention tomorrow.” She’d lock them in a room and make them talk about the little things that kept aggravating the other, have a rational resolution to their little arguments this time around. “I’ll draft Angel to help me keep you two in line if I need to. Meet us at the Hyperion tomorrow.”  
  
After a long moment, Wesley nodded. “Alright. Fine.” Wesley’s agreement was the key issue - getting Faith to agree to the idea would be easy, but not something to do in front of other people.

“Good. See you then.”


	16. How Long Has It Been? (Amy/Willow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pansy32 requested "How long has it been?" + Amy and Willow. I could make them a pairing or not.

Willow didn’t usually go out to bars or nightclubs. Actually, she hated doing that. The Bronze in Sunnydale had been one thing – it was the Bronze, after all. Only place to hang out anyway.

But here she was, in a gay bar, sitting in the corner and slowly nursing a drink. It was all Buffy’s fault. Willow had been content with spending her nights at home curled up with her laptop or a good book and her cat Inigo Montoya – yes, she’d named him after a Princess Bride character – but Buffy had threatened to fly all the way from Paris and force Willow to put herself out there again at metaphorical stakepoint if that’s what it took.

Buffy was under the impression that Willow needed to stop moping over Kennedy, but… Willow hadn’t really ever moped over Kennedy. By the time she’d walked in on her ex having sex with another woman, their relationship had been basically dead for months anyway. Both of them had known that. Willow hadn’t even been able to muster enough anger to yell at Kennedy even a little, or burn the things Kennedy had accidentally left behind. She’d actually dropped them in the mail and sent them to her.

Because… well… she wasn’t even upset. It was sad, a little, that her relationship had died, but it had died with a whimper, and it had died before Kennedy cheated. They’d just… drifted apart, stopped working… take your pick. Which was really _why_ Kennedy had cheated. Her ex had known as well as her there was no love left in their relationship. It barely counted as cheating.

_Three months is long enough Willow! You need to put yourself out there!_

Rather than put up with Buffy pestering her over the phone, Willow had decided she’d go out a few times this week, and then she could tell Buffy she’d tried and go back to spending her nights in her apartment, like she wanted to. There was this 200,000 word fanfic for one of her OTPs that she’d just found yesterday that she wanted to get started on reading.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Willow looked around the bar. She’d picked one that wasn’t the type to be that filled with people, on a night when it especially wasn’t. She was going to tell Buffy she’d tried, not that she’d tried that hard.

As she surveyed the room, she caught sight of a brown-haired woman sitting at the bar, her hair falling down straight, past her shoulders. Something about the woman caught Willow’s eye… maybe it was the way her jeans hugged her hips, maybe it was… something undefinable. Willow wasn’t sure what it was, but as she sat there, taking another slow sip from her drink, she found herself… well…

She really wanted to introduce herself to the other woman. She didn’t get why, but…

_Well, I guess I’m going to try a little bit harder than I intended._ Willow got up and walked over to the bar, sitting down next to the woman, who was sipping from a fruity-looking tropical-y drink, complete with a little umbrella.

“Hey.” Willow said, already feeling like an idiot. The other woman turned her head and Willow caught her breath as she recognized the woman. Amy Madison.

The last time Willow had seen Amy had been a few days after the Collapse of Sunnydale. They were in L.A., waiting for the last of the new Slayers that had made it out alive to be checked out of the hospital, and Willow had gone to get a coffee, and seen Amy coming out of the shop. Showing good sense for a change, Amy had actually tried to run when she saw Willow, but she hadn’t made it far. Willow hadn’t done anything to Amy, but she had promised the other witch that if she saw her again, she’d get around to making her pay for that hex.

Of course… that had been a long time ago.

“Willow.” Amy stood up, moving quickly, almost knocking her chair over, babbling. “Goddess.. . if I had known you were in this city… look, I’ll leave tomorrow… I mean, if you want me to leave tonight, I will, it’s just – I mean, I already paid for my motel room and-“

“Amy, it’s… it’s okay. You don’t need to… I’m not going to do anything to you. You can sit back down, finish your drink.” Hesitantly, Amy sat down, not taking her eyes off of Willow, as if afraid she would attack her suddenly otherwise.

“You said-“ Amy started, her voice soft, but Willow shook her head.

“I know what I said. But that was – how long has it been? Nearly three and a half years? As long as you’re not… not going to do something like that again, I don’t… I’m not going to drum you out of town.”

Amy shook her head, “No, I’m not… I was… I was planning on moving here, to this city… if you want-“

“Cleveland is big enough for both of us, Amy. I’m not… at this point it’s not like I’m still angry at you. It’s been long enough.” She’d barely even thought of Amy that much, really, and… what Amy had done was reckless, and wrong and petty, but… she wasn’t going to hold onto anger forever. That didn’t help anyone. “How… how have you been? I didn’t – I didn’t know you were… well, gay.”

“I’m bisexual, actually.” Amy corrected, without any heat, “And… well, I didn’t realize it myself until two years ago. Though in hindsight…” Amy shrugged, “it explains a few things.”

Willow nodded, “I understand that.” Once she’d realized she liked girls, certain things about the way she’d looked at and thought about Miss Calendar, for example, had made a whole lot more sense to her. “How… how have you been?” It felt weird asking Amy that, but… they had been friends once. A lifetime and a half ago.

Amy didn’t say anything for a long moment, then, “I… I could be a lot worse. Bounced around a bit after Sunnydale fell… skirted pretty close to the edge. Things have been better for a while… but…” Amy shrugged, “I came here to Cleveland looking to start over. I had a bad… bad breakup a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Willow said sincerely. She looked down at the bar for a moment, then back up to Amy.  “I broke up with Kennedy a few months ago.” She said suddenly. Before Amy could say anything, she held up a hand, “It… its nothing to feel bad about… we should have broken up a while before we did. Inertia kept us going those last couple of months.” Willow trailed off. She didn’t know why she’d been drawn too Amy in the first place, but… there was something about her. Purely physically, there was the fact that Willow was finding Amy attractive, but..

_Am I…am I actually interested in Amy? Of all people?_ Willow bit her lip. She was. _Wow._

“You mentioned you were planning on moving here. Do you have a place lined up?” _This is a bad idea._ But… frankly, Willow hadn’t realized just how scared Amy still was of her wrath– now that she’d seen it… she could still see it in the way the other witch carried herself. Willow wanted Amy to know she didn’t bear her any ill will. And… a new start was always something Willow could get behind helping.

“Not yet.”

“Well… one of the tenants in my building moved out a few days ago… if you wanted to come by the building tomorrow… it would be easier than having to go apartment hunting.”

Amy looked at her, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why… why are you- I mean… fine you’re not still angry at me and… believe me, that’s… that’s good to know, but…”

Willow shrugged. “I’m not totally sure, to be honest. But… I mean, we were friends once, Amy. It’d be nice to see if we could be again. And… well, it would be nice to have someone on my level, magically, around.”

“I was never on your level Willow.” Amy pointed out, without any bitterness in her words this time.

“You were close. You sell yourself too short, maybe.” Willow disagreed. “Look, just think about it, okay?” She wrote the address of her building on a napkin and pushed it over to Amy.

Amy nodded. “Alright.”

Little did either of them know that in a few months, they’d be dating. That before three years had passed, they would have a handfasting ceremony. That after the _[Obergefell](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FObergefell_v._Hodges&t=MDNkYzRlODRkZjE4YTlkNjQ1YjU4OGQwYzU3Mzc1OGMwNGI1ZjkwNyxSS2FJRktONQ%3D%3D)_ decision came down from the Supreme Court, they would be among the first same-sex couples in line to apply for a marriage license in Ohio. There was no way either of them could know that’s what was coming. All they knew was that something new had been started between them, though neither of them were entirely sure what.


	17. “I’m falling in love with you," (Tara/Willow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @kathubs requested “I think I’m falling in love with you, and it scares me.” + Tara/Willow

“ _I think I’m falling in love with you, and it scares me.”_

There were times when Willow wanted to just… say it. Just come out and say it, tell Tara those words that seemed to keep lodging in her throat before she could get them out.

When Oz had left, Willow hadn’t thought she’d move on. Ever. She’d wanted to wait for him, thought he’d come back… any day now. As the days stretched longer, she’d realized that wasn’t going to happen. That Oz might never come back – he wasn’t even writing her letters… it was as if he’d just decided to completely forget about her.

By the time she’d realized that, Willow had still not thought she’d be even remotely inclined to move on soon. She’d thought it would take a long time for her to meet someone that she felt like she could connect to the way she had with Oz.

And she certainly hadn’t thought that if she met such a person, that it would be another woman.

Willow hadn’t, before Tara, ever thought to question her own sexuality. But…

Tara was always on her mind. When she was around, Willow was always aware of her, of how close or far she was. She was happier when Tara was around…

Tara was pretty – more than that even. And when she smiled, the world seemed to light up, and Tara was… beautiful was the only word for it.

And then there was the… whatever it had been that had passed between them when they combined their magics to block that door with the vending machine. It had been more than just magic. Willow grew more sure of that the more she thought of it.

 _But… am I gay? Am I…_ Willlow had loved Oz. Still loved him, to a degree. But… Willow was starting to be more and more certain that she loved Tara too. Which meant that she did like girls…

Which… if it was true… certainly put a few things she’d felt around Miss Calendar into context…

Willow wanted to kiss Tara. Wanted to hold her and…

But the prospect of falling in love with Tara, especially so soon after Oz leaving… it scared her. On the most basic level, it scared her because loving someone gave them the power to hurt you… she’d loved Oz, and he’d left, and she’d felt dead inside to a degree for a while. It had _hurt_. And if she really did love Tara…

That meant Tara could hurt her. And the idea of giving someone that power… frightening.

And then there was the other factor… as far as her friends, the people closest to her, thought, she was straight. A normal, not-at-all-attracted-to-other-women heterosexual woman. On the one hand… none of her friends had really acted or seemed like they’d have an issue with it… Xander’s initial reaction to Larry  a year and a half ago notwithstanding…

But on the other hand… she could hardly know. She could care less what her uninvolved parents thought about it..But if her friends… if Buffy, or Xander, or Giles… if they… she didn’t know if she could handle them rejecting her because she loved another woman.

Willow looked at her clock, still lost in thought. It was time for her to leave for class…

_I’m in love with Tara Maclay. And that terrifies me._


	18. You Can Amuse Me (Wesley/Lilah)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bisexualxanderharris (now Fangel) sent me Weslah + “I’m waiting for someone. However, you can amuse me in the meanwhile.”

This one is actually really easy to fit into the canon for a change, so let’s put it in the summer between Seasons 3 and 4.

* * *

“I’m waiting for someone. However, you can amuse me in the meanwhile, if you like.” Wesley drawled to Lilah, not even looking at her as he took another sip from his Guinness. It was a strange game they’d been playing this last month, and he couldn’t help but continue to play it.

“More like you’ll amuse me,” Lilah countered, sitting across the booth from him. “So just who are you waiting for, anyway? Found yourself a new doe-eyed girl? One that looks like that twig from Texas?” Lilah smirked, as if she’d expected that barb to hit home.

But it hadn’t. Wesley’s feelings for Fred were mostly burnt to ash behind him, along with most of the rest of the life he’d built over the last two and a half years he’d been in L.A. It was surprising how easily he’d burned them away in the fires of his own resentment and self-righteous anger.

Yes, they had every right to be upset with him. But they’d also dropped him like garbage, every last one of them picking Angel over him without even bothering to ask for his side of the story. And yet Gunn had still come to him and demanded help. And Fred had called more than once, wanting his help to find Angel.

The search for Angel was why he was here, of course. It hadn’t taken Wesley long to realize that Connor and Justine were behind the dissappearance of Angel. The only question was if he was still ‘alive’ – as it were - or if the boy Wesley had risked everything for had turned out to be a patricide.

He was supposed to be meeting with someone who could tell him Justine’s location.

“I’m not sure why I would, when your efforts to make sure I’m satisfied are so… thorough.” Wesley replied dryly. “Tell me, if I did decide to work for Wolfram and Hart, would the… benefits you’re providing continue?”

“Well, the marketing is always different than the reality, but I’m sure we could work something into your contract.” Lilah replied, leaning back in such a way that she was flaunting herself to him without being crass about it. “Are we talking seriously here, or hypothetical?”

Wesley chuckled darkly, “Are you ever not on the clock, Lilah?”

“Are you, Wes?”

“I suppose not. Did you need something in particular, or are you just here for amusement?”

“You are my something in particular, Wesley. I’m between meetings for the next few hours, and it’s not hard to figure out where you are.”

“You have people tailing me. You might want to get better ones. I spotted this one before I was out of my building.” Wesley didn’t care if Lilah tailed him though. Not right now. Soon he would, because he couldn’t have her knowing he was looking for Justine, but for the moment…

“I am quite busy for the next half hour or so – as I said, I am meeting someone – but after that, I’m all yours.”

It was a strange game they played. Sometimes Wesley openly embraced her advances, sometimes he made to fight them. Right now…

Well, frankly, he didn’t care much today. Here he was going out of his way to save Angel, if Angel could be saved, and that was taking all of his capacity to care about the big picture today.

It was a strange game they played.


	19. "Do You Know What Time It Is?" (Tara/Willow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kathubs sent me Tara/Willow + “Do you know what time it is?”

Tara rolled over in bed and smiled at the fake-sleeping redheaded woman next to her. Willow was many things, most of them very good and wonderful, but good pretending to sleep was not one of them.

“Willow.” Tara said gently, putting her hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Do you know what time it is?” She rocked Willow’s body gently. 

“Nnnh. It’s sleep time!” Willow said, her voice a combination of actual tiredness and fake tiredness. 

“It’s eight in the morning. You have class in an hour.” Tara said. “I told you not to stay up working on that spell all night.”

“I dun wanna wake up…” Willow groaned, throwing a hand up to block her eyes. Tara smiled. There was something absolutely adorable about Willow when she got like this.  But… She did need to wake up.  
  
“Will Sleeping Beauty wake up if I give her a kiss?” Tara teased.  
  
“… maybe…” Willow said after a long moment. She rolled a little so she was lying on her back instead of her side, moving her hand so it wasn’t on her face anymore. 

Still smiling, Tara moved in an pressed a kiss to Willow’s lips. It wasn’t a light kiss, not even close, but it only lasted for a few seconds before she pulled away, ignoring Willow’s pout.   
  
“There isn't time for more… right now. You have to get dressed, eat breakfast and go to class.” Willow pouted more. Leaning in towards Willow’s ear, Tara added, her voice a playful whisper, “when you’re done with classes today, if you really want to play Sleeping Beauty some more…” As Tara had thought it would, that had Willow sitting up. She sat back and watched, giggling a little at the rapidity with which Willow started getting ready.


	20. “Close your eyes.” (Tara/Willow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kathubs sent me “Close your eyes.” + Tara/Willow

This one takes place in a post-series AU where Tara didn’t die (but basically things happened more or less the same in season 7, mostly, except for the obvious – no Dark Willow, no Willow/Kennedy, etc). It’s a little shorter than I thought it would turn out, but that happens. Specifically, it’s set shortly after the California Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage in 2008 (but before that stupid Proposition 8 BS)

I’m a little hesitant on if I got Tara’s voice right, but I did my best.

* * *

“Close your eyes.” Tara told Willow. Of course, Tara knew her girlfriend well enough to know that simply telling her to close her eyes wouldn’t be enough to keep her from peeking, so while Willow had her eyes closed, Tara took a cloth from her pocket and tied it quickly around Willow’s face, covering her eyes so she couldn’t peek.

“Tara…?” Willow asked slowly, not sounding concerned so much curious. Willow trusted her enough to not be worried, Tara knew.

“Just keep the blindfold on until I tell you to take it off.” Tara told Willow. She stepped away from her girlfriend and walked over to the desk on one end of the room, opening a drawer and silently undoing the spell of concealment she’d cast on the drawer’s false bottom. Once she had it lifted, she removed the small, square box with, walking over to Willow slowly, her breath catching in her throat, her heart starting to race.

_Why am I… it’s not as if she’s going to say no, right?_ She loved Willow and Willow loved her… Tara wanted this. Had someone told her five years ago, after they’d left Sunnydale, that she’d be the one to… to ask Willow this question, she’d have stammered out her disbelief and then hidden. Even by then, she’d been a lot more confident than she had once been, but still…

But now… it was very different.

Tara forced herself to take a breath, letting it out slowly, and then she dropped to one knee. “You can take off the blindfold now.” She opened the box as Willow removed the cloth and let it drop to the ground. Willow’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock as she saw what was in Tara’s hands.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were beautiful,” Tara started, wishing she’d actually rehearsed something, even in her own head… she didn’t know if she could get through this without her throat closing entirely on her as her nerves continued to fire off wildly. “The first time I held your hand, I fell in love. The first time we kissed, I felt the world vanish away and it was only us. And the first time we made love… I knew then that you were my soulmate.” She could feel tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision a little, but she could see hints of glistening wetness in Willow’s eyes as well.

“It hasn’t been an easy road, for us to get here. But we did. I love you – more than anything or anyone else in the world. We have so much ahead of us both, and I want to face whatever the world throws at us by your side. Willow Danielle Rosenberg, will you Marry me?”

A tear sliding down her left cheek, Willow nodded, her voice soft, as if she was afraid it would break if she spoke any louder.

“Yes.” Then she said again, more firmly. “Yes.” Afraid to say anything now, happiness threatening to explode within her, Tara slipped the ring onto Willow’s hand, rising to her feet as she did so. The moment she was standing up straight again, Willow threw her hands around Tara’s neck and pulled her in close, pressing their lips together.

She wrapped her arms around Willow’s back, their bodies automatically molding to each other as they had so many times before. But this time, they did it not as girlfriends, but as fiancés.

Tara kept the kiss going for as long as she could, unwilling to separate from Willow, but eventually they both needed air, and Willow pulled back, but they stayed close, their foreheads touching.

“I love you,” Willow’s voice was barely above a whisper.


	21. (Wesley/Lilah) “How many times are we going to do this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked Weslah + “How many times are we going to do this?”

This starts during the ‘never going to get anything but grey’ scene in “Habeas Corpses”. AKA the scene that makes me shout WESLEY YOU ASS every time I see it. 

* * *

Lilah took a step back as he turned away from her kiss. This again. “You know, it’s weird. Rain of fire, whole city burning—why do I feel a chill?” 

“I can’t do this anymore.” Wesley said firmly, starting to turn away from her completely.

For a moment, Lilah contemplated turning on the charm. She knew exactly how to get him to ignore this line of conversation for a while. What to do, what to say. But even if she did this time… they’d come down this road again, and again, and again. 

_How many times are we going to do this?_ Well, this was going to the last time. The world was potentially ending. She didn’t want to spend the last of the time she potentially had having this argument over and over. Even if it did always end in such _delicious_ ways, complete with broken furniture.

“You are an idiot, Wesley” Lilah said, her voice flat. “You and your goddamn hangups. You… you act like being with me taints you somehow.” She scoffed. “You’re dancing the line between good and evil all on your own, Wesley. You know what, fuck it and fuck you. I’m evil, and you’re not, and you can’t get past that.”

“We’re on opposite sides of a war that will never end, Lilah. I don’t know how I’m suppose to just ‘get past’ it.” Wesley said softly. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth would be nice. This isn’t about Fred. You don’t love her, and you never have.” If this was going to end, Lilah was gong to have it out with Wesley. Lay out just how much of an idiot he was. “You love the _idea_  of her. She’s such a ‘good’ and ‘pure’ person and obviously a good person would love her. But you don’t.”

“This isn’t about Fred.” Wesley told her, inhaling sharply.

“No, it isn’t. Its about you and your hangups. And to be honest, I’ve had it up to here with them.” She hadn’t come into this expecting sweet kisses, chocolates and roses. Feelings hadn’t been supposed to enter into it, but they had. And Wesley wasn’t such a good liar that she didn’t know that they had for him as well. “When you’re done with them, assuming both of us are still alive, give me a call.” Lilah turned, taking in a breath quietly, keeping her composure perfect, even though she was feeling actual pain inside of her. She was halfway out the door when Wesley called her name, his voice breaking just a little,

 “Lilah.” Turning, she looked at him, waiting for him to say more. “Don’t go. Please.” He’d never said please before. Not even in bed. Lilah bit her lip and walked back inside his apartment, closing the door behind her. 

“Just one question… is there still a signed dollar bill in your wallet?”


	22. "I'm Flirting With You" (Faith/Amy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for @emofaith on tumblr to the prompt Faimy + "I'm flirting With You"

Take place in a vaguely a few years post S7 AU where Faith and Amy are in the same city and have a sort of Frenemies relationship.

* * *

Faith looked at the dark-clad witch standing across the alley from her, her face probably looking as confused as she felt. That kind of comment was the last thing she’d expected to hear from the witch.

“Amy. What are you doing?”

The witch frowned, “I’m flirting with you. Is it not working? Was Buffy wrong? Do you _not_  like girls too? Or… do you like girls and just not me? Do you prefer blonde hair or something?”  
  
Faith blinked at the rapid deluge of vaguely disappointed words from Amy. “Wait, you’re gonna have to rewind the clock on me here Amy. When did you talk to Buffy about me?”  
  
“When she was in town last month, during the whole Gloxnar demon infestation. Since she knows you a lot better than I do, I figure I’d ask her if she knew if you… you know, like girls.” Shrugged, “Hitting on straight girl gets embarrassing after the first fifty times. I have the world’s worst gaydar.”

Faith was still confused. Sure, she’d worked with Amy before, on an off, an they had this weird sort of not quite enemies relationship going, and Amy had helped with that Gloxnar infestation an just now with the vamps now sitting in dust piles on the ground but as far as Faith knew, Buffy didn’t really like Amy. _She’s told me to run you out of town more than once._  But Buffy did also respect that this was Faith’s city, and not tried to play the ‘I’m technically in charge’ card. 

“And Buffy just what, told you about how I flirted with her every other sentence when I first showed in Sunnydale?” It wasn’t hard to guess that that’s what Buffy had told Amy Even if that annoyed her, because it meant that B _hadn’t_  been oblivious. _And you just let me flirt away without letting me know you weren’t interested? Come on!_

 _“_ No…” Amy admitted, wringing her hands in a decidedly un-amy like gesture. “I may or may not have cast a loose lips spell on her so she’d be willing to talk to me.”

Now _that_  sounded like Amy.

“Alright, yes, I like girls too. I’m bi. And no, I don’t  _just_ like blondes. An y’know what, yeah, you look good. Always thought that.” Faith admitted. Amy didn’t exactly ‘ooze sex appeal’ or anything, but she had a damn nice body and knew what to do with it. But god, Amy, what the hell are you doing flirting with me? I mean, we’re on opposite sides here, and technically you’re evil!” Granted, Amy wasn’t always making much of an effort at being evil, but she did from time to time. Usually it wasn’t as flashy as the time she’d robbed a bank. That had been quite a show.

“Technically you’re a murderer, Faith.” Amy shot back blandly, no accusation.. “And there’s no technically about it. I’ve made deals with demon for power for Hecate’s sake. But the fact remains that you’re the closest thing I have to a friend.” Amy took a hesitant step towards her. “You’re hot, you’re pretty amazing, you’ve never judged me even though we are on opposite sides, and when we’re working together on something, I always know you’ve got my back for the duration. Fact is, I trust you, which makes you the first person for that in a long time. So yes, I like you.”

Faith blinked again. She was a little too surprised by everything to really have a coherent thought about what Amy had just said. “Are you about to ask me out?” She wasn’t even sure where that question came from. Just kinda came out.

Amy nodded, “I was trying to work up to it, but yeah,” She sighed. “. Look, Faith, would you like to go get drinks? The night’s still young and you’ve got the baby slayers to do patrol. Something comes up they’ll call you.”  
  
Faith opened her mouth, “Look, Amy, I…” Faith shut her mouth, no idea what to say to that. _I mean, yeah, Amy looks good, and she’s got her good moments, but… evil. If nothing else, being on opposite sides would cause problems in the domestic harmony._  
  
Amy pressed, taking another step towards her, “Look, just drinks tonight and… I won’t make any waves for… two weeks. I’ll be a good little girl, won’t even try to get you to owe me a favor or pay me if you need my help in that time. Even if you decide you don’t want to date me after tonight.”  
  
Two weeks of no trouble from the witch? Okay, that was worh it. Besides… now that she thought about it… worth trying. At the very least…  _I haven’t gotten any in month. No time to find someone. May as well give it  shot when someone throws themself at me._  
  
“Alright. Drinks. Long as you swear an oath to on that two weeks thing to Hecate.” Faith may know know her magic shit well, but she knew if you swore a magic oath on a god or goddess, the consequences of not following thrugh on your promise could tend to be bad.

Amy smiled. “Deal.” There was someting almost infectious about the genuine pleasure in the witch’s smile, and Faith but help but smile a bit herself.  
  
Neither of them could know, as Amy swore on Hecate’s name, that by the time the two weeks were up, Faith and Amy would be definitively an item. Or that Faith would find truly creative ways to respond to Amy’s… indescretions. And ways to disincentivize them.  
  
Or that Amy would find increasingly harmless but extremely creative ways to annoy Faith in a professional sense, becase she liked the consequences when they were both off the clock.   
  
Or that, to her dying day, Amy would vehemently insist that she was evil, even though she’d long since abandoned actually doing anything meaningfully evil, and indulged in more minor and petty evil only because of… how… delicious Faith’s reactions could be.  
  
Neither of the could know that. But that was what was coming for them.


	23. It's Okay To Cry (Tara/Willow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @kathubs requested "you know, it's okay to cry" + Tillow

This is set, a couple of days after New Moon Rising

* * *

Willow hated herself right now. Just a little bit.

She’d made her choice – and she was so… incredibly happy with it. She loved Tara, and didn’t see how she could ever regret choosing her, but… you couldn’t just… turn off love like a light-switch, and part of her still loved Oz. Part of her always would, she was figuring.

But thinking about maybes and might have beens… why was she wondering? She’d picked Tara for a reason, many reasons. She hadn’t picked Oz for nearly as many…

Willow put the picture of her and Oz into the bottom drawer of her desk, burying it under everything else.

She… missed Oz, just a little bit. What they’d had. It was a different kind of missing, now that they were over, once and for all, rather than when he’d left her before. Then some small part of her had, for a while, held onto hope. Now there wasn’t hope. She didn’t even want hope.

But she still couldn’t help but miss him.

Willow blinked quickly stopping any tears from starting to form.

“You know, it’s okay to cry.” Tara said softly, putting her hand on Willow’s shoulder. Willow turned around in the chair, throat tightening. Had she- did she… “It’s okay to miss him,” Tara added, gesturing to the drawer. “You choose me, and I’ll thank the goddess every day for that, but you did love him once. It’s okay to miss him and be upset that it ended.”

“Tara… I don’t want you to think I’m having second thoughts…” Willow said softly, biting her lip, her throat still tight.

“I don’t think you are. And I won’t if you cry.” Tara put her hand on Willow’s chest, right over her heart. “I don’t need to worry about that… I know your heart.”

“I love you,” Willow said, standing up from the chair and pressing her lips to Tara’s.


	24. “Do you ever think we should just stop this?” (Wesley/Lilah)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith requested Weslah + “Do you ever think we should just stop this?”

This is set sometime during their ‘relationship’ in Season 4.

* * *

“Just to check: do you ever think we should just stop this?” Lilah asked, hooking her bra back together, then grabbing her shirt from where Wesley had casually thrown it an hour before.

Wesley sat up in the bed a little, looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Why the sudden asking? You don’t care about ‘should’.”

“No, I don’t. But you do. Kind of a detractor from your charms, but it has its moments.” Lilah put her shirt back on.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind. But… for the time being, the answer is no. In order to be able to think we should stop this, I’d have to be able to define it.”

“I suppose that would be a difficult thing to do, given that we’re just having sex. A lot. I think they usually call that ‘friends with benefits’.” Lilah pointed out, searching for her shoes. They had a tendency to end up in the strangest places in his apartment when she came over.

“We’d have to be friends… and this would have to qualify as a benefit.” Wesley pointed out, looking past Lilah, quite deliberately. “This certainly isn’t a relationship of any kind. It just is.”

“It is a relationship, in a way. And I can guarantee you that you’ll call it that sooner or later. I know how your mind works.”

“You don’t know a thing about how my mind works, Lilah.” Wesley disagreed, but Lilah just rolled her eyes and walked out of the apartment, chuckling to herself just a little.


	25. "Seriously? The Chimney?" (Xander/Cordelia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous requested Xandelia + "Seriously, The Chimney?"

Set some kind of post-series thing where they're married and together. Tangential mention of Faith and Amy being together in the background.

* * *

 

“Seriously? The chimney? There’s really a demon that comes down the chimney.” Cordelia shook her head. “No. That’s just – come on, seriously?”

“You didn’t think that Santa Claus came out of nowhere?” Giles explained. “There really is a demon that comes down chimneys during the night. Only, he doesn’t bring presents, he disembowels children. Only ones younger than five.” Cordelia’s throat clenched as Giles said that and she put a hand on her stomach without even realizing what she was doing. She’d seen disemboweled bodies before – hazards of a Sunnydale Education – but the very thought of that happening to her son…

Xander reached out and interlaced his fingers with hers, and Cordelia held her breath while Giles went on.

“There are ways to ward your chimney against Santa Claus – and yes, that’s the only name we have for this demon, unfortunately. As the residents of this house, you can power a ward to stop him from entering – he comes through the Chimney, and only the chimney.”

Xander frowned, “Our blood? Why can’t magic ever just need… I dunno, positive feelings and good will?” Cordelia shot him a look. She got why he was doing this, but… this really wasn’t the time.

“Whatever it takes. No demon is hurting our son.” Cordelia said firmly. “How long will it take?”

“An hour for me to draw the wards, then a few minutes for the ritual to activate them with your blood. It’s going to take more than few drops though.” He opened his bag and handed Xander a knife. No. Cordelia recognized what it was – an Athame. She’d gotten one for Amy two years ago for Christmas on Faith’s recommendation.  “You’ll have to cut your palms – Xander, you’ll cut your right, and Cordelia, you will cut your left. I’d suggest having some bandages or something similar on hand for afterwards.”

“Duh.” Cordelia nodded, and looked over at Xander.

“Off to the drug store I go. Xan Xan, the Bandage-Fetching man.” Xander went into the kitchen and grabbed his keys.


	26. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” (Faith/Amy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> faimy + “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” was requested by @emofaith

“I’m a Slayer. I’m not supposed to fucking get sick.” Faith said, the effect of her cursing ruined by the fact that she was speaking with a very stuffed nose. She pulled a kleenex from the box and blew into it, the action loud enough to reverberate throughout their small apartment. 

“It’s a demonic version of the common cold from another dimension,” Amy said, walking into the living room, a of steaming liquid in her hand. “If anything can make you sick, that can. Besides, you used to think you couldn’t get hangovers, and then you went and gave yourself one.”

“I thought you were _dead_  at the time, Amy!” Faith pointed out, again the aggressiveness in her tone ruined by the way the cold was affecting her voice. “And it took a _lot_  of beer and Jack Daniels to give me one.”

“And this is the equivalent sickness-wise.” Amy pointed out. Actually, slayers _could_  get sick - Buffy had at least once - but it did seem to be pretty damn rare. Right along with their supernatural metabolism that meant they could never get fat. That was one thing Amy could _never_  just forgive Faith for. It was unfair that Faith could eat like, three fast food meals in one sitting and weigh the same the next day.  “You’re sick, Faith. You’re going to have to deal with it.” She leaned down and handed Faith the mug. “And while you’re sick, I’m going to take care of you, okay?” She waved her hand and the used tissues strewn around the couch and on the floor next to it flew into the trash can.

Amy reached over and tucked a stray hair behind Faith’s ear, smiling a little at the pout on her girlfriend’s face. 

“What is this?” Faith asked, looking at the mug in her hand.

“Chamomille Tea.” She’d had to borrow some from Wesley, since they didn’t actually have any tea in their apartment. “You need to sleep and you need warm liquids. This will help with both.”

Faith pouted even more - and Amy really wanted to kiss her, the way she was sticking her lip out just a little bit… but Amy didn’t want to get sick, so… she moved up and kissed Faith’s forehead lightly before pulling back. 

“Drink it all. There’s chicken noodle soup heating up in the kitchen.” Amy wasn’t much of a cook, but survival skills were something she’d had to figure out. And heating soup up wasn’t that hard.”

“Chicken noodle soup?” Faith scoffed. Well, she tried to, but all she managed was a bit of a coughing fit that ended with her blowing her nose into a fresh kleenex. “I feel like I’m a six year old with chicken pox again.”

Amy straightened back up and walked towards the kitchen. “Look at it this way Faith. The faster you get better, the faster you can stop sleeping on the couch and come back to the bed. It was really lonely last night.” And really, it had been. She hadn’t gotten much sleep, given how used to falling asleep with Faith’s arms around her she’d gotten over the last few years.

Fucking demonic cold.


	27. F*ck You! (Faith/Amy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @kathubs prompted: Faimy and "Fuck you!"

This takes place in a post-S7 Comics What Comics AU. Not super-friendly to Willow, but not completely bashing her either, IMO. It’s not like Willow doesn’t have legit reason to not like Amy.

* * *

“Faith, step away,” Willow said, her hands wreathed in white fire. “I don’t want to get you when I hit _her.”_

“I am _not_ going to just let you torch her, Willow.” Faith replied, moving not away from Amy but between the two witches. “Look at her Willow, she’s no fucking threat to you. To anyone.” Behind her, Amy was huddled against the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, shaking and shuddering, looking a little green.

“You don’t know what she’s capable of, Faith. She’s evil.” Willow replied harshly. “You don’t know what she did. Why the hell are you letting her roam free?”

“She cursed you a couple times, and your squeeze Kennedy nearly died because of one of them. So the fuck what? I actually _killed_  people. Like, actual innocent human people!” Faith glared at Willow, meeting her eyes. “You and B and Xander and everyone else have been fucking off in Europe the last couple years, setting up the new Council. Cleveland’s been my fucking show, and I handle things my way.”

“And a damn fine job you’ve been doing if you let Amy run free!” Willow shot back. Something in Faith snapped when Willow said that. The Scoobies went off to Europe, left her alone with a bunch of baby slayers, a pile of money and no watchers (though they did up sending her a few survivors later) and now Red wanted to come and start questioning her? Where the fuck was she?

And if Willow thought Faith was going to let her insult her girlfriend, the woman she loved, like this, the witch had another thing coming.

“Fuck you! Amy screwed up, made mistakes. She’s been paying for them since, and she’s saved my ass - the asses of every Slayer on the Hellmouth! - more than once. You haven’t been here. You haven’t seen her. You don’t know a think about her, or what she’s really been through. And I’m sure as hell not gonna let you torch my girlfriend.”

Willow took a stunned step back, blinking. “Wait - your- what the? How the hell - how is that even possible?”

“Is is so hard to believe that someone might actually love me, Willow?” Amy asked, her voice shaky. She looked up. “I mean, I know you hate me, and it’s not like you don’t have good reason to, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the world is obligated to hate me.” She tried to step away from the wall, but all she managed was to fall over, landing on her hands and knees. 

“Amy!” Ignoring Willow completely, Faith rushed over to her girlfriend. Four days ago, they’d had to stop a warlock from opening the Cleveland Hellmouth. But they’d arrived too late to stop the ritual. The only way Amy had been able to stop it was to take all the magi from the fucker’s ritual focus into herself. It had saved the day, but it had been pure, concentrated dark magic. Exactly the kind of shit Amy had been addicted to a few years. Was still additcted to, even if she’d managed to avoid a relapse.

But that much magic had forced her into one, leaving her a shuddering wreck, going through the worst withdrawal ever, basically. She couldn’t even use any magic for fear of it making things worse. So if Willow actually tossed that fire…

Amy wouldn’t be able to raise any sort of shield. 

Faith put her arms around Amy, helping her to her feet, holding her up, letting her girlfriend lean on her. She reached over and pushed some hair out of Amy’s face. “You can do this Amy. Stay with me.” She turned to Willow, who looked even more dumbfounded. But at least the fire had vanished from her hands. “And **you**  can _fuck off!”_


	28. “The planet is fine. The people are fucked.” (Wesley/Lilah)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith prompted: weslah + “The planet is fine. The people are fucked.”

"Wesley, here’s the thing you always keep mixing up when we talk about the firm’s plans.” Lilah said, her words not _quite_  slurring. Wesley had never actually seen Lilah drink this much before. It was…

“Wolfram and Hart isn’t trying to destroy the world, as in, like the actual planet.”

“I was under the impression that was how ‘destroy the world worked’, Wesley said dryly, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t entirely sure how the both of them had ended up on the couch in Lilah’s spacious apartment, his shirt off and Lilah wearing only her green bra and panties. Or how Lilah had ended up partway to drunk before he had. But here they were. It was quite amusing, in a way. 

“No, no, no. Destroy the world is just sort of… the term. I mean, the planet Earth is gonna stay the same once the Senior Partners launch their apocalypse, but it’s just not gonna have any people on it, The planet is fine. The people are fucked.”

Wesley smirked, downing a shot of whiskey and pouring another.

“I _see._  And here I was opposing you because I was so concerned about what your employers were trying to do to the Amazon Rainforests. My mistake.”

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Nobody likes a smartass, Wes.”

“I was under the impression that was the whole reason you and I were having this ‘relationship’. That and the fact that you can’t resist me.”

“You still have that backwards, Wesley.” Lilah replied, climbing onto his lap and running her hands over his chest. “And I’m going to prove that point to you.”


	29. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess.” (Kate/Angel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith requested lockangel + “It’s your fault we’re in this mess.”

“Angel, next time I tell you to leave Wolfram and Hart alone  _listen_  to me! As it stands, it’s your fault we’re in this mess!” Kate leaned around the corner and fired off another two shots from her gun, ducking back to avoid the return fire of the Wolfram and Hart security forces.

“I am not letting them get away with what they tried to-” Angel started, but Kate cut him off.

“I didn’t say they were going to get away with it, I said you had to leave them alone! If there’s one thing you don’t do well, Angel, it’s plan things. I was _putting_  together a plan, one that would actually have worked if you hadn’t fucked it all up by trying to go after Lilah directly!” Actually, there were a lot of things Angel didn’t do well, but there were many others he did. 

“Then why didn’t you _say_  something!” Angel shot back. Before she could reply, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back - just in time to miss the bullet that would have punched through her chest if he hand’t. The force of his pull had left her pressed against his chest for a moment, but Kate couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. _Which really sucks._

“Because!” Kate said after a long moment, drawing a complete blank. “Okay, fine, I don’t have an answer,” she added at his look. “But we have to go _now!”_


	30. “How dare you?” (Wesley/Illyria)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith prompted weslyria + “How dare you?”

“You presume to know my mind, Wesley?” Illyria snapped, rising to feet and glaring at him, her crystalline blue eyes making the effect of the glare only more unnerving. “How _dare_ you!”

“I don’t presume a thing, Illyria,” Wesley said softly, still seated. Coming back from the dead had been a… singular experience. Spending a few months in a hell dimension with Lilah as his co-prisoner, jailor and sometime lover had also been a fairly singular experience. He had expected fire and brimstone, but his hell, his standard perpetuity clause workplace, had been working for Wolfram and Hart in one of their many offices in hell.

Only he was given tasks that either forced him to make moral compromises even he couldn’t bear to make, or they were so menial as to render him insane. Often times both - which was a rather difficult thing to accomplish, he supposed.

“All I said - a simple observation of fact - is that you going through the effort you did to bring me back from the dead says that you were unhappy with my death,” Wesley was somewhat surprised she’d bothered. Or that, when he’d felt the spell coming, he hadn’t resisted it. It wasn’t as if he had much left to life for.

But really, as it turned out, he didn’t have much left to stay dead for either. His relationship with Lilah proved no less… complicated in hell than it had in life.

“Your absence was merely an inconvience.” Illyria replied coldly. “ _You_ are my Qua'ha'Xahn. It was merely not worth the effort to find a new one.”

“You managed three months in the mortal world without me. You didn’t need me. If I am to be your guide, I must help you understand yourself.” Wesley didn’t have much to live for, but Illyria was something. Her desire to bring him back was something ne needed to understand. Perhaps her reasons for wanting him alive could be enough to give him a reason to stay alive, other than it being ‘not dead’ (and not back working for the Senior Partners - though there were ways for him to die without coming back like that, and they remained options).

“I don't desire to understand the weaknesses of your species, especially not those this form have imposed upon me. Not having you alive and serving as my guide was distasteful. And so I have changed that state of affairs. I am still the Shaper of Things, Wesley, and I will reshape this world to my design and will.”

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “So you hope to restore your Empire.”

“I will be worshipped as the God I am, one day.” Illyria replied with certainty. “In time, this world will be mine. But for now, I am content to observe, and plan. I will need information if I am to achieve my goal. And you will remain my guide.”

It wasn’t a suggestion or an offer. It wasn’t even an order. It was just a statement of fact.

“Is that all you need of me? To be your font of information?”

“Your pathetic human tongues lack no word for what a Qua'ha'Xahn truly is. ‘Guide’ is merely an approximation. No, you will return to your duties as Watcher. These champions - these Slayers - lack them. They are… unhappy with my presence, and the golden-haired one’s weapon is capable of being my undoing. You will put them at ease.”

“I will?” Wesley raised an eyebrow. “You just told me you intended to take over the world. Seems the sort of thing Miss Summers is likely to take umbrage to.”


	31. "we're to stoned for our own good" (Tara/Faith)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @mylittleshipperheart requested "we're to stoned for our own good" + Mehane

This takes during very late BtVS Season 3, an AU where Faith saves Freshman!Tara from a vamp while on patrol, falls head over heels for this cute shy blonde and ends up not going evil while spending a lot of time convincing Tara that yes, I’m serious, I wanna date you. And Boom, MEHANE! Cue: Tara letting Faith have some of her stash. Specifically, her pot pancakes.

* * *

Faith had never actually done weed before.

Anyone who knew her might have been surprised by that - she smoked, she drank, she had more sex with random strangers than was considered ‘good’ by those prudes in the Scooby Gang. Granted, she hadn’t done any of that sleeping around shit since she’d met Tara, but still.

But Faith had never gone weed. Weed relaxed you, and growing up the way she did, with her boozy, pill-popping mother and said mother’s shitty boyfriends/dealers/pimps (they were usually at least two, occasionally all three) and then the foster system and then the streets of Boston… relaxed was the last fucking thing you wanted to be.

But right now… man, relaxed sounded _damn_  good. Why hadn’t she tried this shit before?

The downside was, she was even fuckin’ hungrier than usual. And she’d already eaten all the food available in Tara’s dorm. And it was three in the morning.

“You sure you don’t got anything else in here?” Faith asked her girlfriend. “I’m _starving_.” For some reason, Faith started giggling as she said those words. She hated giggling. Which only made her giggle more and then she couldn’t stop herself. She fell backwards - at least she’d been sitting on the bed, sprawled out. 

“You-you’re always starving.” Tara pointed out. “I’d offer to make more pancakes - normal ones - but..” she tried to get up herself and just fell over, landing on thed bed herself, sprawled out. “I- I think we’re both too stoned for our own good.”

“Speak for yourself, Tara,” Faith said slowly, looking at her hand, which was really interesting all of a sudden. “I feel _great_. Why didn’t I let you talk me into this sooner?”

“Be-because I never tried to talk you into this.” Tara pointed out. Tara didn’t really do the ‘talk Faith into doing things’ thing. Except for, you know, when it came to sex. Faith hadn’t expected she’d like not being the top, but as it turned out…

Faith rolled over and propped her self up on her elbows trying - and failing - to effect a _come hither_  look. If she couldn’t handle the hungry side of the hungry and horny, she could at least cover the horny part, right?

Tara looked at her and burst into giggles of her own - Faith should have been annoyed by that, but all it made her do was giggle again.

Fuck. They really were too stoned.


	32. “You are infuriating!” (Xander/Cordelia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith prompted Xandelia + “You are infuriating!”

Set during Season 2, specifically during the Janitor’s Closet Era. Very early in the Janitor Closet Era, really.

* * *

“Is this really all we’re going to be doing, for like, the rest of time, Cordy?” Xander asked between deep breaths as he and his not-quite girlfriend pulled back from each other. “Just come into the Janitor’s closet and make out.”

“You want to stop doing it?” Cordelia threatened, raising a finger and pointing it at him threateningly. “And why are you talking? The whole point of us being in here is to kiss, so get back to kissing me!” 

Xander raised a hand, “No, no, I don’t want to stop. Just… you know, is this really all we’re gonna do? Are we - are we even together?”

Cordelia looked at him like he’d grown an extra head, “Of course not! What the hell, we’re not even - we’re here making out in closets! That’s _not_  dating, Dweeb! You are - you are _Infuriating!”_

“ _I’m_  the infuriating one? You’re the one treating me like some… dirty little secret or something.” Not that Xander was really eager to be known as the guy dating Cordelia either, in a lot of ways. Or to… you know, let Willow find out about that fact. That reaction in particular he dreaded.

But still… _I mean, yeah, I really really like kissing her, but… I kind of want more than that?_  And he didn’t mean sex - yeah, he wanted that, he was a 17 year old male teenager, but like… he wanted an actual relationship. _And I’m turning into a woman as I think this._

“That’s because you _are_  a dirty little secret. You think I want my friends to know I’m doing this with you? Now stop thinking and get back to kissing me or I’m leaving this closet! We’re not here to talk, damnit!”

With that ultimatum, Xander picked the kissing. Was a lot more fun than thinking about the fact that he actually wanted to like, spend his money on buying gifts for Cordelia. Because that was all kinds of crazy weird to think about.


	33. "we’re just third and forth wheeling." (Faith/Wesley)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith prompted: faithsley + “It’s not a double date, we’re just third and forth wheeling.”

Okay, so this is in some sort of post-Chosen universe where Wesley didn’t die, Bangel gets together at some point. Angel Season 5 didn’t happen (i.e. they never took over Wolfram and Hart)

* * *

“Look, Wes, I’m not asking you out on a date. I just don’t want to be the third wheel for Buffy and Angel… again.” Faith had been the third wheel to the vampire and his girlfriend for months now, and now that Wes was in town, she was going to leap at the chance to not be the third wheel.

Plus, it was a fucking good excuse to spend the evening with Wesley. Because Faith had a fucking habit of pining for people that were hung up on someone else - first Buffy, then a brief thing for Angel, then, in a messed up way, Wesley during their brief team-up. But Wesley had been hung-up on that texan girl. And… damn, but there was all kinds of screwed up in the idea of her and Wes… even if he had looked (and still looked, damnit) _good._

She’d even felt like Wesley had kind of felt something for her to - some sort of interest or whatever… 

But Faith had had to go to Sunnydale. It was important shit going down there, after all. Which meant… no exploring possibilities with Wesley.

But here he was. Fred now happily with Gunn again, and Wesley ready (she hoped) to move on (with her). Absence had only made the heart grow fucking fonder.

She had a goddamn crush on Wesley. Like a fuckin’ schoolgirl. It was like with B all over again (okay, no, not exactly the same. Crushing on B was a whole different vibe, but the same kind of ‘holy shit what’s wrong with me’ thing was still there… and she still had no damn answer for that.)

“So… it’s not a double date, so much as we’re third and fourth wheeling?” Wesley asked cooly, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly.”

“If you’re not interested in being the third wheel, why do you even spend the evening with them in the first place?” 

“Because someone’s got to babysit those two,” Faith said honestly before she could stop herself.

_Fuck_. That was not really a plus column thing. Not what you said to the guy you wanted to go on the not-double date with you. _Fuck fuck fuck - Faith, learn when to shut up._

“That doesn’t sound altogether appealing,” Wesley admitted, taking a step towards her. Faith was suddenly very aware of his presence. “I’m not adverse to spending the evening with you, Faith, but I’d rather hope we’d be too… occupied to ‘babysit’ anyone.”

Faith’s mouth felt dry as Wesley lowered his voice, putting an emphasis on ‘occupied’ she’d never actually heard from him before. “Occupied?” Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

“By our own date,” Wesley said softly. “That, and wherever and whatever the night takes us to.”


	34. "I'm so embarrassed!" (Willow/Amy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith prompted radison + “You weren’t supposed to laugh! I’m so embarrassed!”

this in set in an AU where Willow and Amy started dating in Season 2. This fic is set in Season 3 though.

* * *

Amy covered her face with her hand, feeling heat spreading across her face and even down her neck. Spreading her fingers apart a little, she looked at Willow through the gap as her girlfriend managed to bring her giggles under control. 

“You weren’t supposed to laugh!” Mortified, Amy closed her eyes and ducked her head, ‘looking’ down. She’d worked so hard on getting the magic right and now Willow was _laughing_  at her. 

It wasn’t - it wasn’t like it was scornful or malicious laughter, but still. _I’m so embarrassed._  Amy just about stopped herself from stating the obvious aloud. 

“Amy… you don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s perfect,” Willow said softly. She reached out with her empty hand and touched Amy’s shoulder lightly, then her hand trailing up her girlfriend’s body to wrap lightly around her wrist.

Amy couldn’t help but lean into Willow’s touch a little and  dropped her hands before Willow could tug them out of the way. She looked at Willow, at the small ring she’d given her. 

Amy had tried so hard to think of the perfect gift for their one year dating anniversary. She’d wanted it to be something personalized and unique and that told Willow exactly how important she was to Amy. Exactly how much their relationship meant to her.

Amy dealt with the ghost of her mother’s actions every day. She still had nightmares of Catherine Madison coming back from… wherever. The few nights she didn’t have them were when she had sleepovers at Willow’s house and they slept next to each other. (neither of them felt ready for sex yet, but that hadn’t stopped them from taking advantage of Willow’s absentee and uninvolved parents sometimes and sleeping next to each other in Willow’s bed, just holding the other. Those were the only nights she slept completely peacefully.

After… after what her mother had put her through, even before the body-swap, Amy had felt… worthless. Damaged. Dirty. Like no one (especially not Willow, wonderful, sweet, amazing Willow - when Amy realized she was bisexual late in her sophomore year, she had realized that she’d really been crushing on Willow since middle school) could ever love her. But Willow had put the lie to those dark thoughts. They still intruded on her, but… all she had to do was remember everything she’d gone through with Willow.

Amy had wanted a gift that said all that and more to Willow, and she’d finally settled on projected memory. On showing Willow, how happy Willow made her in the most direct way possible. She’d copied her own memories of their first kiss, their first date, when Willow first said ‘I love you’, the first time they’d slept next to each other and put them into the ring. And so Willow could experience them herself, and _feel_  how happy she’d made her.

“I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just… I’m not sure what to say… this… this is something really intimate you’re giving me, and I mean-”

Amy interrupted her girlfriend before she could start babbling with a light kiss, one hand resting lightly on Willow’s cheek. “I love you. You mean… you mean so much to me, Willow, and I want you to know how much. What you mean to me. And now you can.” She didn’t want to wax poetic too much, sound too intense, but Willow already had Amy’s heart. Sharing her memories with her was small change, set against that.


	35. “What have I told you about the toilet seat?” (Xander/Cordelia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith prompted: xandelia + “What have I told you about the toilet seat?”

Domestic married Xandelia

* * *

 

“Xander!” Cordelia screeched at the top of her lungs. “What have I told you about the toilet seat!?” If she’d told her husband once, she’d told him a thousand times. And yet, proving to be the most stereotypical _man_  in existence, Xander had once again left the toilet seat up.

Under other circumstances - i.e. ones where she wasn’t over six months pregnant and otherwise stressed out with everything involving their coming child - she might have taken the time to consider that Xander hadn’t left the toilet seat up in like, a year or more. She’d done a damn good job of training Xander over the years. 

But all that wasn’t even occurring to her.

“Don’t leave it up- oh,” Xander said as he came into the bathroom. “Sorry.”

“Sorry! Sorry? Xander, how many times have I -” Cordelia snapped, but her husband interrupted her. 

“Cordy, it’s a toilet seat. It’s not like it’s the end of the world. I’m sorry.” He stepped by her and put the seat down. “I didn’t mean to leave it up - but it’s been a hell of a long time since I left it up.”

“That’s not the point Xander!” Cordelia replied.

“And what is? Cordy, I’m genuinely missing the point here. You’re acting like I screwed up in a much bigger way.” He paused, and Cordelia saw the concern and worry written across his face, “did I do something else wrong?”

Cordelia opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, she felt something… like, a weird - and kind of painful - fluttering in her stomach. She hadn’t felt it before, but she’d read enough pregnancy books to have a pretty good idea -

There it was again! She almost fell under the surprise sensation, putting her hand on her stomach and spreading her fingers. Yes - her baby… _their_ baby was kicking. 

“Xander, get over here! The baby is kicking!” Xander rushed over to stand by her side and he put his hand on her stomach next to hers. His face broke into a huge smile as the baby kicked more. Cordelia leaned over just a bit and gave him a quick, light kiss on his big, stupid, smiling face. “I love you.”

Doofus who occasionally left the toilet seat up or not, Xander Chase-Harris was her husband and the father of her baby. And she loved him. 


	36. "That stupid move" (Faith/Wesley)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @emofaith requested faithsley + “You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?”
> 
> Potentially triggering content (knifeplay, albeit non explicit) below.

“You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that stupid move, Wes?” Faith laughed, “And here I thought you were smart.” She picked up the knife again and approached the chair to which she had bound him, slowly, letting her hips sway in the process. Smirking, Faith straddled his hips as she sat down on his lap, squirming.

And then smirking even more as she got exactly the reaction she was looking for. One hand went to the collar of his shirt and unbuttoned it, then went down the line, unbuttoning one, then two, then three buttons, leaving his chest bare. Twirling the knife expertly, she ever so lightly ran the knife from his collarbone downward.

“I mean, really, Wes, untie you for a ‘fair’ fight? You know I don’t give a shit about that.”

“No, I didn’t think you’d fall for that stupid move.” Wesley agreed, “I figured you’d fall for _this_ though.” Faith blinked, wondering what the hell he meant, when she felt the barrel of a gun pressing against her stomach. “I’d put the knife down, if I were you Faith,” Wesley said, his voice a cold, deadly threat. 

Faith just chuckled darkly, “Now why in the hell would I do that? This is just gettin’ fun.” Pressing the knife ever so slightly harder against his chest, Faith leaned in, squirming on his lap more, and kissed him. Hard.

Her husband was one kinky fucker, and he always had the _wildest_  ideas.


	37. "Are we really doing this?" (Cordelia/Buffy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @mylittleshipperheart requested "Are we really doing this?" + Cordelia x Buffy

Cordelia was not a woman who did regrets. She didn’t believe in them. But she knew that other people did do regrets. And she was going to make sure that her girlfriend did not have one here and now.

Breathing heavily and pulling back from her girlfriend’s lips, Cordelia took a deep breath.

“Why are we stopping?” Buffy pouted, moving her arms up Cordelia’s bare back a little. They were on her bed, naked but for their bras and panties, and Cordelia really, really wished she wasn’t pausing things. Having Buffy Summers for her girlfriend - hell, just having Buffy Summers in her school at all - had led to her wearing out dozens sets of batteries for her vibrator. 

She really, really wanted to just get to it. They’d talked about this, built up to this. They’d had an amazing date and part of Cordelia just wanted to get to it. She was tired of being a virgin, dammit! And she was tired of not having had sex with her amazing and by all appearances, very willing girlfriend.

“Not if you don’t want to. But that’s what I want to make sure of. Are we really doing this? No regrets tomorrow morning?”

Buffy smiled, “No regrets, Cordy. I want this.”

Now it was Cordelia’s turn to smile, though it was more of a smirk. “Good. Now… where were we?” She leaned in, pressing her lips to Buffy’s. She put her hands on Buffy’s shoulders and pushed lightly, pushing her girlfriend so she was lying back on the bed and Cordelia was half-laying atop her as they kept kissing.


	38. "we can never tell anybody that we're dating!" (Cordelia/Buffy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous requested Buffy x Cordelia "we can never tell anybody that we're dating!" "you just admitted that we're dating"

For the purposes of this little fic, Buffy is a lesbian and has known that she is for about two years now.

This takes place in like, early season 2, the only major difference from canon being Buffy and Angel never make out/date/etc (Angel still kills Darla for Buffy – he still loves her after all)

* * *

Buffy really wasn’t sure why in the hell she was in a closet making out with Cordelia. For the fourth time this week. And this… thing had been going on for over a month now.

It wasn’t that it was with a woman. Buffy knew she was gay. Which was one of several reasons why she’d been unreceptive to Xander’s – comparatively benign – advances since she’d come to Sunnydale High. Here, she didn’t have to worry about maintaining any sort of high status presence in the ‘in’ crowd. She didn’t even have to pretend to be interested in boys.

The only person who knew she was gay was Angel. She hadn’t even meant to tell him, it had just sort of slipped out. She could appreciate that the guy was handsome, but… well, she was gay. She wasn’t attracted to or interested in him. For a vampire with a soul that had killed his own sire for her, he’d taken it… pretty well. He admitted to still being in love with her, but he’d respected that she just couldn’t love him back.

But none of that related to the fact that here she was, in this closet, making out with Cordelia Chase, the Queen Bitch of Sunnydale High and the girl who had spent years making the lives of her best friends – Xander and Willow – a living Hell.

And it wasn’t as if she and Cordelia exactly ‘got along’.

It wasn’t just that Cordelia was hot – though there was that. Buffy wasn’t controlled by her hormones.

_Then again…_ Buffy shivered a little as she felt Cordelia’s hand roam across her back as they continued to kiss. Finally though, they had to pull back for air, and Buffy couldn’t help pouting when Cordelia stepped back.

“We have plenty of time before the next class Cordelia,” Buffy pointed out. “You don’t need to leave now.”

“Your lame-ass friends may not be wondering where you are, Buffy, but mine sure as hell are! I’ve got places to be other than class. People I need to hang out with.” Cordelia shook her head, “I have a reputation to maintain. Appearances to keep! No one can know we’re dating. So I’m leaving, and you’re waiting five minutes before you get out.”

Buffy bit her lip for a moment. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand Cordelia’s desire to keep her place as Queen C. Or that Buffy could fault her desire to stay in the (metaphorical) closet  - hell, Buffy definately couldn’t throw sticks because she was in it too. 

Besides, Buffy really didn’t want to know how Xander and Willow would react to the idea of her having this… thing with Cordelia. She didn’t think either of them would judge her for being with a woman - apart from a few slightly inappropriate jokes from Xander anyway – though she couldn’t be sure.

But she knew for a fact that both Willow and Xander would have a _lot_ to say about her picking Cordelia of all women.

Before she could say anything in response, her brain latched onto the particular word choice Cordelia had used.

“You just admitted we’re dating. We’re dating?!” It wasn’t… well, were they? All they did was make out in closets. Was that dating?

Cordelia bit her lip, at a loss for words since the first time Buffy had met her, and then, hurriedly, without a word, practically bolted from the closet.

Buffy was not able to get that slip of the tongue out of her mind though.


	39. "I never stopped loving you" (Xander/Cordelia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @mylittleshipperheart requested

Okay, so this is set in an AU Season 5 of BtVS. The specific logic of how the AU came to be is irrelevant, but it’s similar to that of the fic [Segue](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.fanfiction.net%2Fs%2F2430641%2F1%2FSegue&t=MzQ0NzE1MWMxZDY0OTk3ZTQ0OGY3ZmU0MDBhMDRkYmViZjQzNTYxMyx4Mkdkb3dkSA%3D%3D&b=t%3AkIe7sWvGn-jX_AH23RVgLg&m=1) (I.e. Anya and Xander broke up at some point and Anya left Sunnydale, Cordelia comes back to Sunnydale after Angel fires everyone)

* * *

Xander wished he could be sure they were going to win this one. But somehow… somehow he couldn’t be. 

Buffy had saved the world a lot. Against the Master, against Angelus, she’d stopped the Judge, the Mayor, the Sisterhood of Jhe. She’d stopped those Vahrall demons from ending the world by throwing themselves into the Hellmouth. She’d even stopped ADAM, the demon cyborg.

Buffy had had help, in most of those cases. But it had still been, at the end of the day, all her. All her heroism and sacrifice.

But now… Xander wasn’t sure he could see a way forward. Glory wasn’t just some demon or vamp or cyborg. She was a _god_. Invulnerable, invincible. And the only way to stop her evil plan was to keep Dawn away from her. Or kill her.

Which, frankly, was _not_  an option. 

Which left him with really only one thing he  _needed_  to do. Needed to say, in case he was right, and the world really was going to end tomorrow.

“Cordelia, can we talk?” He asked carefully, gesturing to the back room of the Magic Box. They’d been tentatively feeling their way back to a friendship since she’d come back. Things were… overall, good between them. But fragile.

This could ruin everything, but if they died tomorrow and he hadn’t told her the truth… well, he didn’t want to have that as a problem.

“Okay.” Cordelia said after a moment’s consideration and followed him into the back room.

Xander took a breath, “Okay, so, I could spend the next five minutes building up to and talking around this, but let’s not waste any time. The world’s very possibly about to end, so I feel like now is a the time to tell you something I need to tell you: I never stopped loving you. I know I screwed up with us, and I am sure as hell not expecting you to return my feelings, but if we failed tomorrow, or if I died without telling you…” He couldn’t find the right words. “I just - I needed you to know. I still love you, Cordelia Chase.”

Cordelia just stared at him for a long moment, and then her hand swung and connected with his face. Hard.

His face stinging, Xander put a hand gently on his cheek as she begin to berate him. "Xander, you are an idiot and you have the worst timing!“

"I didn’t say I expected you to feel the same way, Cordy.” Xander pointed out, looking down at the ground.

“I didn’t say that, Xander. I said you’re an idiot with bad timing. That’s an entirely different discussion. Me not loving you was never the problem, Xander. _Trusting_ yo was - is - the problem. And I - oh, damn it all!"u

Reminiscent of their first kiss three years ago in Buffy’s basement, Cordelia threw her arms around Xander’s neck and pressed her lips to his, driving all coherent thought from his mind. The last two years had apparently made Cordelia an even _better_ kisser than before.

Finally, after what felt like longer than it had been, she pulled back.

"Say what you want about your ex, but she definitely improved on a good thing when it comes to your kissing.”

Xander blinked, wondering at the sudden non-sequiter, thought returning to him slowly. “What happened to not trusting me?”

“I’m still working on that part,” Cordelia conceded. “But like you said, the world could end, we could both die, so fuck it all, let’s just ignore that part for a bit.” And then her lips were on his again.


End file.
